


Debauchery's Sway

by goldenteaset



Series: Checkmaid Series [2]
Category: Granblue Fantasy (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Anal Play, Belial Being Belial (Granblue Fantasy), Brief Belial/Vane, Brief Lancelot/Sandalphon, Bunny Girl, Choices, Clothing Porn, Embarrassment Kink, Erotic Tickling, Explicit Sexual Content, F/F, F/M, First Time, Foursome - F/F/M/M, Harems, Immortality, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Maids, Male Lactation, Maledom, Mind Control, Multi, Orgasm Delay/Denial, Sex Toys, Spanking, Threesome - F/F/M, Time Skips, Under-negotiated Kink, Wet & Messy, What Makes the Sky Blue Series Spoilers (Granblue Fantasy), philosophical musings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-14
Updated: 2020-09-14
Packaged: 2021-03-07 01:33:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 25,570
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26448598
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/goldenteaset/pseuds/goldenteaset
Summary: Sequel to Checkmaid.In which Belial offers Rosetta and Djeeta another round of what they started at the Purple Feather, and things escalate from there. Considerably.
Relationships: Belial/Djeeta (Granblue Fantasy), Belial/Djeeta/Rosetta (Granblue Fantasy), Belial/Djeeta/Rosetta/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Belial/Sandalphon (Granblue Fantasy), Djeeta/Rosetta (Granblue Fantasy)
Series: Checkmaid Series [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1924060
Comments: 10
Kudos: 20
Collections: Iddy Iddy Bang Bang! 2020





	1. Go Ahead (Let Your Mind Go)

**Author's Note:**

> Believe it or not, I was aiming to keep this shorter than Checkmaid. Then Belial's character trailer for Granblue Versus dropped, and I decided to use this new understanding of his body language for good! 
> 
> The chapter titles are from Parade's Lust and Belial's Summon Call, respectively. :D 
> 
> EDIT: Also, I suggest reading Checkmaid before reading this, since otherwise the setup won't make sense!
> 
> Disclaimer: I don't own Granblue Fantasy.

Belial grins down at the Singularity and her little friends from the rigging of their airship, his leathery wings unfurled. It’s been awhile since he got to expose himself like this; it feels _good_ , showing off Cilius’ perfect design. Especially with the old HQ (and Lucifer’s sleeping pet) just a short distance away. It’d be nostalgic if he had the time to indulge.

Earlier, he _made_ time. Curiosity getting the better of him, he snuck a peak in the Singularity’s quarters to see if she was there…and saw the sexy calendar the Purple Feather commissioned of him coyly peeking out from under her mattress for his trouble. _I love when my hunches are right!_

It’s a shame: when he realized the Singularity and Rose Queen popped by the Purple Feather again a few months back, he hoped another round of “sexy maid and employers” was in the cards. (The calendar proves he was in their thoughts.) Instead, they skipped town. He wound up making his own little pocket dimension just outside Canaan for _exactly_ this reunion.

Luckily, there’s no need to prepare any more.

His spears are heavy behind him, the crimson points practically singing for blood. _If I speed things up a little, they’ll get it!_

“Show me your libido,” he calls, his grin widening as the Singularity flicks a worried glance to the Rose Queen. It seems _somebody_ forgot about the confidentiality agreement at the Purple Feather. He can work with that.

The Singularity takes the lead, knocking an arrow to her bow quick as thought. Her fingers tremble in her leather opera gloves—the only indication she’s reconsidering her choice.

She looses the bowstring anyway.

Wind _hisses_. Pain sparks through his thigh. Not bad.

Belial pretends like the arrow quivering in his flesh actually matters, pulling it out with a grunt. He’s rewarded for his theatrics with a _roar_ of bullets instead of applause—which he blows away with a flap of his wings.

There’s a lot to dodge here: arrows, bullets, magic, thorny whips…and all of it barely a drop in the bucket. Now, if they had a Moondweller weapon or two, _then_ he’d have to play it cool. Too bad.

He lets his mind wander—and pays the price.

Huge thorns sharp as swords crash into his face, drawing blood and globs of fat. Cold air caresses exposed bone deliciously. _That’s what I get for not paying attention to my partners…_

“ _Ooh_ , you like the rough stuff, huh?” Fresh sinew and skin crawls over his wound like an army of ants. “Wish I’d known that sooner!”

“Come down here, you coward!” the old gunner yells, despite following Belial’s figure-eights as smooth as butter.

“I’ll pass,” Belial replies. The Singularity’s gaze smoldering behind her goggles, keeping him in her sights, commands his full attention. _She’s holding back…so there’s an ace up her sleeve._ A low chuckle bubbles up from his throat. _How adorable!_

He stops right above her to give her the perfect view…and the perfect bait.

She draws her bowstring as far back as she can, her lithe, taut muscles straining. _That’s my little maid…!_

His eyes warm with heat as they roll back in his head. His spears are ready. All that’s left is—

“— _Anagenesis_!” 

Red-hot lasers rain down on the ship’s deck, on its crew. He pays no mind to their screams as the floorboards crack under their feet, of course. (He knows his aim’s good.) All that matters are the reactions of two _very_ special people.

And oh, does he ever get what he wants.

The Singularity goes slack as a puppet with cut strings, her sharp eyes glazed over. And her scent—one that lingered in his memory for days, so musky and deliciously raw—floats up to him, a subtle perfume only another Primal could appreciate. He doesn’t need to peek under her leather leotard to know she’s beginning to throb for him, remembering _exactly_ how good he made her feel that night.

As for the Rose Queen… _well._ Her fingers are clasped around the necklace at her pale throat to protect it; whoever programmed her was the thorough sort. Basic instincts aside, her beautiful flesh has a dusting of pink over it; like pollen over a flower. And her violet eyes are drinking in Belial and the Singularity with captivating hunger. She wants nothing more than to have them at her mercy. Or perhaps something else?

“Well, what do you think?” he calls, as the Singularity struggles to her feet. “Is the fire consuming you yet?”

The Singularity shakes her head as if to clear it and orders a retreat, bringing her frazzled friends into the safety of their ship. Which is fine; Belial has plenty of time to kill.

When the Singularity returns, it’s with familiar faces and a new look: a white and gold leotard, a flowing mantle with svelte knee-high boots to match, and an adorable rabbit-eared headband to top it all off. _So many leotards today! Interesting. It’ll be Sage this time, huh?_ The way she’s holding that staff, it seems she thinks _this_ will be the Class she needs to win.

The way her eyes widen as if she forgot something says otherwise. Her decision to not retreat again _is_ admirable…if a bit reckless.

So, he decides to play nice for a bit. For a few rounds he only uses regular attacks: punches, kicks, gusts of wind, nothing to write home about. It’s all stuff the Singularity can deal with.

He lets the Rose Queen get a few licks in too—scratching up his poor wings in the process. (Not enough to bring him down to earth, though.)

And right when the Singularity’s tense expression starts to soften…

“ _Anagenesis_!”

This time, he adds a little extra spice. When Anagenesis slams into the Singularity, he sends out a memory from that night—of when he first used Anagenesis on her, and how good it felt to be under his spell. _Wouldn’t you like more of that, Singularity,_ he asks, _only_ better _, more intense?_

To the Rose Queen, he gives her a memory of him suckling on her breasts, and adds _Even a Queen needs some time on her back now and then, right? The Singularity sure enjoyed it. Why not fall under my spell for a little while? It’ll be fun._

And he hits them with Anagenesis again, and again, adding in more prompts as he goes. _I’ll bring you both back safe and sound when we’re done. All the rules you set up last time still apply. That sounds fair, doesn’t it?_

After the third hit, he _feels_ the Rose Queen agree to go under, if only a little. It’s a slight sense of give, like a tree bough under his feet, or of a boon being granted. And the Singularity’s even more eager, her mind practically clutching at the merest _suggestion_ that she’ll be his maid again.

That’s when he knows he has them.

After that, he doesn’t wait for the dust to settle. He just swoops down, grabs the Singularity and Rose Queen and shuts his pocket dimension behind them.

Time for the fun to begin.

\---

“Singularity,” a familiar baritone coos from far away, “hey, wake up already. I thought you wanted to play with us?”

Djeeta’s eyes flutter open, and she sighs from deep in her chest. _I can’t believe I forgot Dispel_ again _, how stupid! Oh, well. What’s done is done…and maybe I wanted to sleep with Belial one more time._ It was that same _maybe_ that led to her and Rosetta having a long, hot bath a little while before Belial showed up to fight. A total coincidence that only Vyrn would buy. 

“What…happened…?” she mumbles, struggling to sit up.

“Oh, nothing much.” Belial’s voice is closer now. “I just invited you ladies to go another round or two, and you accepted. Remember?"

She nods, a bit annoyed that his condescension still has the power to send a hot shiver up her nape.

"Good. Now, then, where was I…oh, right.”

Djeeta’s vision clears. She’s on marble floor, using her mantle as a cushion. There are no windows here, nor doors that she can see: just pale red walls. In front of her is a huge four-poster bed that could probably hold three people in its creamy-white expanse, and on that bed is…

“ _There_ we go,” Belial says, holding Rosetta’s chin between his fingers as he gazes intently at her face. “Just keep your eyes on me, Rosetta…and let your mind sink down, bit by bit…” The lack of a nickname this time makes his words all the more alluring.

Rosetta breathes in and out slowly, her hands resting on her lap. Her long brown hair hides her face from view, but it’s clear she’s unwilling to look away from him. How Belial got hold of a bunny outfit from the Casino Liner, Djeeta has no idea—but she can’t deny that the black-and-sheer fabric that clings to Rosetta’s curves, accented by the bunny ear headband so similar to hers, is a huge success.

“She said she wanted to match you…and feel what you felt at the Purple Feather.” Belial grins down at Djeeta, his gaze roaming leisurely over her outfit. “I think it’s a _great_ idea. Not every day you get two gorgeous bunny girls on your lap, right Singularity?”

Djeeta doesn’t answer.

Belial’s brows rise in mock-astonishment. “Oh, _that’s_ right, you’d rather be our maid! Hmm…” He pretends to consider it. “…Well, a little maid can be a little bunny now and then.” With that cryptic statement, he turns his attention back to Rosetta. “Now, then…Rosetta, tell me: how does Anagenesis feel?”

“Wonderful,” Rosetta answers, as if from the depths of a beautiful dream. “It’s as if…you’re caressing me whenever you talk.”

Djeeta fidgets, not sure how she feels about this. “That sounds even better than last time…just like you said, Belial.”

“You didn’t believe me before?” Belial pouts. “How mean, Singularity!”

She shrugs. “You said you’re the Fallen Angel of Cunning, so…”

“Oh.” Belial scratches the back of his head and sighs. “You make a good point.”

Djeeta watches Rosetta’s cheeks turn flushed and her fingers grow tense on her lap. _You haven’t even touched her yet._ “What about me? You said I’d be under Anagenesis too.”

Belial tilts his head to one side, his crimson eyes bright with mischief. “I guess I did say that. _But_ …” He stretches out the word until it practically drips with teasing lust. “…I’d like to see what Rosetta here can do, first. And I think you would too.”

Djeeta certainly can’t deny _that._ At the same time, the offer he made on the Grancypher was so tempting, how could she turn it down—and how could _he_ back down on it? Rather than answer, she continues watching instead.

“You know, Singularity,” Belial says with suspicious casualness, “there were a lot of things on your list of ‘wants’ we didn’t get to cover last time at the Purple Feather. Do you remember what they were?”

Djeeta shakes her head, despite the heat overwhelming her cheeks giving the lie away.

“Uh- _huh_.” He chuckles knowingly. “Rosetta, _you_ should jog our little bunny’s memory! Go on: tell me what Djeeta wanted that we couldn’t _quite_ squeeze in.”

“Of course; they were erotic spanking and tickling.”

“Good girl. And what did you think of them?” Belial asks as Djeeta squirms in embarrassed delight, shivering from head to toe.

Rosetta’s lips curl into a smile. “They were low on the list, but they had potential.”

“I think so too.” Belial grins down at Djeeta. “You see, Singularity? Does it matter if you’re under my spell, if you get to have your other fantasies fulfilled?”

“…I’m not sure yet.” She peers at him from under her bangs. “But I’d like those too, please. Sir.” The title brings another hot shiver down her neck.

His grin grows ever wider. “Okay. But what do you mean by ‘those’?”

“I…” She clears her throat, her heartbeat pounding in her ears. “…Please, Sir, I’d like to be s-spanked and—and tickled. But I…I don’t want to…!” Her words trail off awkwardly. She isn't used to speaking so much.

“That’s better.” He tilts his head to one side, confused. “But what don’t you want? You can say it, don’t be shy.”

Rosetta’s brows crease in worry. “Djeeta, why are you sad?”

A tiny whisper of sound escapes her lips. “I won’t take Rosetta’s pleasure away from her!”

“Oh, Singularity, come here,” Belial coos, and after some stubbornly-sluggish steps she stands before him. He gently-but-firmly nudges her onto her knees, his long, elegant fingers stroking her head once. “That won’t happen. Here, let us prove it to you.”

Djeeta looks up at him and Rosetta with wide eyes, not wanting to miss anything.

Running a possessive hand through Rosetta’s hair, Belial purrs “Hey, Rosetta…what’s your favorite part of the Singularity?”

“Her determined heart,” she says, so honestly that it feels like Djeeta’s soul could leave her body any second.

Belial sighs with amused exasperation. “Aww, that’s sweet, truly…and not what I meant, which I think you knew.” Long brown strands billow through his fingers. “So, let’s try that again: what’s your favorite _physical_ part of the Singularity?”

“Her lips.” Rosetta’s thighs shift on the mattress as if searching for friction. “She may be the strong and silent type most of the time, but that makes her words more meaningful.” She shifts again, the bed creaking. “Of course, I love kissing them too, and the feel of them against my skin…”

“They _are_ good, aren’t they? So soft and gentle.” His hand moves from Rosetta’s hair to her cheek, cupping it with a hint of tenderness. “Now take mine for a test drive.”

The order’s barely out of his mouth when Rosetta leans forward and presses her lips to his. The kiss starts out almost chaste before inevitably growing deeper, with Rosetta’s head tilted back as she savors the pleasure Djeeta’s well-acquainted with. And agonizingly, it keeps going, with them tangled blissfully in each other’s arms as if Djeeta isn’t even here.

Belial hums in pleasure as at last he breaks the kiss. “So, how was it?” he asks. “Better than the Singularity’s?”

“I can’t compare you.”

“Heh. You must adore her.”

“Of course!” Rosetta almost sounds like her usual self—which makes Djeeta’s heart feel even more overwhelmed. She looks at Belial’s lap and blinks, her beautiful lilac eyes glazed over. “Goodness, Sir, you’re so energetic!”

“Blame the Singularity,” he says with a sly smile, “but I’d rather _you_ took care of it. If she’s good, she can watch.” His muscled thighs inch open to give them both room.

“Very well,” Rosetta says, reaching over to unbutton his trousers. Her bewitching, pale fingers have them open in an instant, and a familiar earthy musk assaults Djeeta’s senses.

Djeeta shuffles in between his legs, her heart thrumming with uncertain excitement about what’s to come.

“Have you been thinking about it, Singularity?” Belial teases, as he strokes a thumb over the thick bulge straining against his black briefs. “The weight of me on your tongue, the way I played with your mouth…?”

Djeeta shakes her head stubbornly.

“If you say so.” With an indulgent chuckle, he turns Rosetta’s face to his. “Rosetta. While you’re using your mouth on me, it’ll feel like the Singularity’s lips and tongue you love so much are working hard between your legs to please you.” His eyes glow like polished rubies. “In fact…until I order you to stop, you’ll treat me _exactly_ like I’m her. I’ll do my best to act the part, too.” Then he lets her go, looking smugger than Djeeta’s ever seen him. “Have fun!”

Djeeta fights back a cry as Rosetta nuzzles her cheek against Belial’s bulge, brushing stray strands of hair from her eyes. “Oh, Djeeta,” she says with a giggle, “you’re so swollen today!”

Belial bites his lip, looking the real deal dead in the eyes. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs in a sweet, high voice bordering on a falsetto, “I wanted you so much, I…!”

“What _am_ I going to do with you?” Rosetta croons, pressing chaste kisses along his thighs. “You really”—she gives his silk-clad shaft a gentle lick—“couldn’t wait another moment!”

Djeeta stares at them, her lips parted in shock. She’s rooted to the spot, watching as Rosetta thoroughly coats Belial’s firm erection in a dark sheen of saliva, her hips slowly beginning to rock from an imaginary touch. And Belial may as well be laughing, for all his acting prowess. He squeaks and moans like a virgin being deflowered, his eyes never leaving Djeeta’s face.

It only grows more deliciously unbearable as Rosetta shoves Belial’s drenched briefs aside and begins swallowing around her cli—no, _his_ _tip_ in earnest, slowly but surely taking him in to the base. And then she draws back, giving Djeeta a front-row seat of every little pulse of his flesh. Her clever, soft tongue still plays with the hood (foreskin) every now and then, taking her sweet time as she always does.

Before Djeeta knows it, she’s rubbing her cheek against Belial’s thigh, her tongue plaintively tasting leather. _It’s not enough…it’s not enough, not enough—!_

“Mm…Djeeta, yes, keep licking that spot there. You’re doing so well…”

“Oh, please _,_ Rosetta, _please_ —!” Belial presses Rosetta’s head down as he thrusts summer-slow into her mouth. “Make me wet, I _want_ it!” He times his soft, desperate keens with Djeeta’s with mortifying accuracy.

Rosetta moans around his shaft as her hips buck relentlessly, her orgasm sending beautiful and terrifying shudders through her body. Even her hair shakes like the boughs of a tree as the aftershocks hit. She's determined to finish Belial off too; her head doesn’t cease bobbing for an instant.

And right when Djeeta’s heart is ready to burst…

“ _Stop_.”

Belial’s drenched tip pops free from Rosetta’s lips, and she sits back on her heels with a disheveled but satisfied expression. “How was it, Sir?”

“The Singularity lives a charmed life,” Belial answers, looking serious for once. But only for a moment; his wicked smile returns in a flash. “Now, then—it’s a bit old-fashioned, but have the Singularity cup her hands and stick out her tongue, Rosetta!”

Too stunned to resist, Djeeta lets Rosetta’s soft hands guide her into position, her mind reeling with ideas of what’s next. _Is he going to climax?_ Air cools her expectant tongue. _There’s no way. He hasn’t used Anagenesis yet—_

Belial's climax was closer than she thought: pearls of seed burst from him in a blurred stroke of his hand, dripping molten-hot and sticky into her palms, melting on her tongue. Instinctively, she swallows, powering through the bitter aftertaste. The only downside to this is she couldn’t see what the rest of him looked like in all the excitement.

“Ah…thanks, Singularity, that was _great._ ” Belial wipes sweat off his flushed forehead, looking quite content. “Rosetta, clean her fingers with your tongue—you need a reward too!”

Djeeta gulps as Rosetta laps up the remnants of Belial’s fluid in a matter of moments, her wet tongue heating her palms. _Oh, skies, it’s too much…I need to climax! But I still want Anagenesis. What do I do…?_

“Much better,” Belial says, once Djeeta’s been licked clean. “Now, Singularity…I believe you have something you need to show us, don’t you?” He makes a lazy gesture for Djeeta to turn around. “Oh, and bend over. Show off that cute little cotton-tail!”

Heart trembling with nerves, Djeeta turns around and lifts her backside into the air, the wetness staining her leotard already cooling in the breeze. Belial and Rosetta’s hot gazes burn her skin like twin brands.

“ _Goodness_ , Djeeta,” Rosetta says, gently stroking her backside. “You’re drenched!”

Djeeta jolts at the touch and nods frantically.

“Hmm, I wonder why that could be?” The tips of Belial’s fingers ghost along her inner thighs, bringing goosebumps in their wake. “Was it from Rosetta’s technique?”

Djeeta shakes her head.

“Was it what we said?” Rosetta’s soft hair plays along Djeeta’s hips.

Another head-shake.

Belial hums thoughtfully and toys with the cottontail at the small of her back. “Well, whatever did the trick…I think I’ve figured out an ultimatum for you. If you can endure being tickled for…let’s see…one hour, I’ll use Anagenesis on you.”

“…What if I can’t?” Djeeta’s heart nearly bursts out of her chest as Belial scoops her up and sets her on his lap, the heat coming off him in waves only emphasizing what’s to come.

“In that case,” Belial’s breath feathers against her sensitive neck, “you beg.”

Djeeta breathes in. Exhales. “I can handle this.”

“We won’t like you any less if you can’t. Right, Rosetta?”

“Of course.”

“Now…Rosetta, go get the box of feathers and coils of silk rope for me, they’re in the chest with the other toys.” His chuckle vibrates against Djeeta’s back. “Can’t have her flailing around too much!”

Rosetta comes back before Djeeta can ask any questions. For being made of glistening silk, the purple rope looks quite sturdy. And it turns out the ominously worded “box of feathers” is actually a collection of different-sized quills in a smart little velvet-lined mahogany case. In other words: it’s all suspiciously normal.

“Thank you.” To Djeeta’s disappointment, Belial sets her down at the head of the bed. Less disappointing is the way he and Rosetta loom over her, their shadows overlapping on her defenseless body. “Now tie her hands to the bed posts, _just_ enough to give her some slack to work with.”

Djeeta knows from experience just how good Rosetta is at tying knots. There’s a certain delicious pride in watching Belial survey her work, nodding in approval when Djeeta can wiggle her fingers yet not break free. (And she gets a good view of Rosetta’s full, beautiful breasts swaying above her face as she works.)

“Very good. Hmm…yeah, we’ll need an extra coil around the other posts to keep her legs spread too. Is something wrong, Rosetta?”

“Her shoes are still on, Sir.”

“Oh, that won’t be a problem.” Crawling over to Djeeta’s feet, Belial reaches down and rips the heels clean off in a blur of motion. “There, that should do it!” He tosses them onto the floor like the scraps they are.

Djeeta looks between Rosetta and Belial with quiet excitement as he settles in at her side. _Now what? Where will they start first?_ She wants to ask, but shyness gets the better of her.

Belial leans over to Rosetta and whispers… _something_ …in her ear. At her dazed nod, he lies on his side with a sly smile, cheek in hand. “Okay, Singularity: you have one hour. On my mark: three…two… _one_.”

\---

Djeeta chokes back a giggle as Rosetta swipes a black feather in lazy circles along her swollen nether lips. Every now and then, she ghosts the feather against her hard, aching clitoris, hinting at relief…only to instead go back to tracing the edges again. Back and forth, up and down.

Never where she needs it most.

“Just _listen_ to those sticky sounds,” Belial whispers, before blowing cool air against Djeeta’s flushed ear as she squirms in sweet embarrassment. “If I knew you were _this_ sensitive, Singularity, I’d have done this to you back at the Purple Feather!”

Rosetta’s shoulder bobs rhythmically as she strokes between her legs, not letting up her tickling for a second. “Sir…? I require more than just my hand…”

“Oh? Well, in that case, put the feather down and rub against the Singularity nice and slow.”

Djeeta’s mind swims as Rosetta climbs over her and takes her time pressing their hips together, drowning her in seductive wet heat. Long brown hair falls over her face like a curtain, brushing her shoulders with maddening softness—but that doesn’t matter, as long as she can see and feel Rosetta above her.

“Nice and slow,” Rosetta whispers dreamily, beginning to rock. “Nice…and…slow.”

 _I can feel everything!_ Djeeta’s hips shudder with every painfully-slow slide of their throbbing sexes together. _Every drenched fold, every pulse of her…!_ She showers Rosetta with plaintive kisses, desperate to show her how good this feels.

“ _Oh_ , yeah, get her soaked for us. Let her see just how good obeying me makes you feel.”

“Yes, Sir.” Rosetta’s plump nipples brush against Djeeta’s, like little brands burning her flesh.

Djeeta sneaks a glance down at their joined waists, assaulted by dizzying heat at the sight. _She’s so wet…was I like this last time?_ The slick, sliding sounds are enough to make her melt.

“ _Look_ at you two go…” The smooth sounds of Belial stroking himself only makes Djeeta dizzier. “Those bunny outfits really suit you well. Mm…we still need to tickle the Singularity some more—but I’ll be nice and let you two climax first.”

“N-No,” Djeeta grits out, as Rosetta’s clit trembles against hers, “I’ll _handle_ it, so—let her—”

“Oh?” Belial’s breath catches. “You think you’d come just from tickling? And that all Rosetta needs is to mix your juices together until she shudders over you? That sounds fun.”

Rosetta’s frantic pants gust against Djeeta’s hair. “Sir—”

“—Heh. Is Rosetta close, Singularity?” Belial seems determined to pace himself.

Djeeta nods, her hands straining in their bonds.

“Very good. So, Rosetta: can’t you just _see_ the Singularity screaming with pleasure as we tickle her pink? I’m sure having your wetness dripping down her thighs will ease that along.” Tenderly brushing locks of hair behind Rosetta’s ear, he leans over and whispers “So go ahead…let it all out for us.”

Rosetta careens over the edge, her waist shuddering as her sex pulses and throbs madly against Djeeta’s. The look on her face is more beguiling than anyone could’ve expected—it’s as if she’s melting in pleasure, her lilac eyes damp at the corners as she gazes adoringly down at Djeeta. _Every time I think I know how beautiful she is, she proves me wrong…_

“Well done!” Belial presses a gentle kiss to Rosetta’s lips. “Now move back a bit and rest—yeah, at her side is fine. Sir can take it from here.”

Djeeta flicks a nervously-excited glance to the box of quills.

“Yes, yes, be _patient_ , little bunny!” Belial laughs as he rummages through the box, picking out a thin white plume. “Hmm…this one should do.” Holding it up for Djeeta to see, he twirls it between his fingers as it catches the light. “Now, where do you think this is going?”

“I don’t know, Sir.” Djeeta’s eyes track the feather, entranced.

“Is that so? Okay.” After mulling over his options, he trails the feather along the shell of Djeeta’s ear, chuckling as she snorts and tries to jerk away. “What happened to wanting to be tickled? Someone’s being _indecisive_ ,” he sings, before aiming straight for behind her ear instead.

Djeeta twitches and turns her head—only to leave her _other_ side exposed.

“Say, Rosetta: one at a time, what are the Singularity’s weak spots?” The feather’s soft whisper feels loud as thunder until it begins to dance down her cheek. “Aside from these pretty, pink ears of hers.”

“Under her chin,” Rosetta says, and Djeeta’s squeaking before the feather even reaches its destination.

“No kidding!” Belial’s practically straddling her as he holds her chin still with one hand, giving the feather ample room to continue its merciless, skin-prickling dance.

Other weak spots require less effort on his part.

Her armpits can’t be hidden from him, exposed as they are. They’re tickled with feather and fingers until they’re flushed and numb, and she’s crying with laughter.

“Delicious,” Belial purrs, licking the hot tears trickling down her cheeks like they’re candy.

Her breasts get the “added bonus” of Belial mouthing hungrily at her nipples until they’re standing at stiff attention—and then the feather resumes its devilish attack, causing Djeeta thrash in her bonds and nearly bite her tongue.

“Okay, okay, let’s try somewhere a bit _less_ sensitive…or not.”

Belial moves on to her belly, where he skitters his fingers over her sides as her taut stomach muscles bob under him like stormy waves. The feather barely even brushes her navel, but that slight touch alone sends her legs flailing.

“Hmm…we better put Rosetta’s juices to good use before they dry.” Belial swirls the feather down Djeeta’s thighs, not seeming to notice as they twitch and buck at the ticklish sensation. His gaze is far more focused on her folds as they shudder and flex around nothing at all. “You _really_ want me to tickle you there, huh?”

Djeeta stops in the middle of shaking her head and gives a desperate nod.

“Well, now, that’s just confusing!” Belial rests the feather inches from her mound. “You’re going to have to say it instead.”

She steels herself and whispers “I—I want you to tickle b-between my legs, Sir.”

“But I’m already there, and you don’t seem satisfied.” He raises his brows in mock-surprise. “Do you mean somewhere else? Tell me, Singularity.”

“Just do your worst.” She closes her eyes, tries to count to ten. Maybe that will calm her down—

“—We only tried it once, but…I believe Djeeta’s nether entrance is sensitive as well, Sir.”

Oh, _no._

“Really?” She can almost feel his wicked smile heat her skin. “Turn the Singularity over onto her belly and spread her open for me. Let’s give it another go!”

The room spins, and Djeeta’s eyes snap open just as she’s flipped over, cool air caressing the backs of her thighs, the curve of her spine. She feels rather than sees Rosetta tug her leotard out of the way, her warm fingers gently spreading the globes of her backside apart.

“Thanks. Mm, and what a great view…” With agonizing slowness, Belial traces the feather along the trembling curves of Djeeta’s backside as if he’s painting a canvas. “…And what a cute little ‘nether entrance’ you have! It’s twitching so eagerly, and I haven’t even touched it yet.”

 _I can still handle this! I can still…_ Djeeta’s heart and body jolt as the feather dives between her cheeks, coaxing chilly sparks from her flesh. Laughter explodes out of her in a wild shriek, and she drums her feet helplessly on the bed. “’s not—fair!”

“But it’s fun, right?” The feather plays about her nether entrance, coaxing moans and giggles from her like she’s a harp being played. “ _I_ think you’re having fun, anyway.”

Bitter cotton fills Djeeta’s mouth as her teeth sink into the pillow. It doesn’t do much to hold back her erotic mirth, but at this point she’ll take anything.

Belial chuckles as he drags the feather inch by painfully-slow inch down the tingling cleft of her cheeks. “…Yeah, I think we’ll stay like this for a _little_ while longer.” His tongue laves hot and wet against the small of her back. “Maybe I’ll even use _two_ feathers next!”

“F-Fine!” With that, Djeeta bites down harder on her makeshift gag, determined to finish the hour tickled pink, but without climax.

\---

“Hmm. Well, Rosetta—should we stop?”

Frantic, babbling wails pierce the air. “No, no, don’t stop, _don’t_ —!”

“Perhaps, Sir. But you said an hour, and it’s only thirty minutes.”

Hot breath ghosts along Djeeta’s ear. “Did you hear that, Singularity?” A sugary-sweet whisper. “You have half an hour to go!”

Djeeta whines and thrashes in her bonds. She’s on all fours, backside jutting up eagerly, her whole sex aching and trembling with each slow, delicate tap of the feather. There are two, now, ensuring both her front and back are overwhelmed with pleasure.

Belial laps at the beads of sweat dewing her neck, never once stopping those infernal, wonderful feathers. “You don’t want me to stop; why not?”

“It…it feels good…”

His smile tickles her nape. “What does?”

“The feathers…they feel good on my…body…” She trembles again. “But…my clit, it’s—!”

“—It’s so _hard_ ,” Belial coos, and Djeeta thrusts back to meet the feather’s single, leisurely rub against that spot that feels aflame with need.

“Yes! So please, _please_ make it come.”

She’s heard Rosetta climax at least ten times by now, and all because of Belial’s voice. Sometimes, he even stopped in the middle of tickling Djeeta and took his pleasure with Rosetta instead, the bed shaking with the raw intensity of his passion. _I want that, too…no, I_ need _that too. So please…!_

“Well, I _could_ , but…that would mean I couldn’t use Anagenesis on you. And that’s what all this is for, remember?”

Her belly swoops at the thought. _Then—then what should I do?_

“There is another way. Why not try begging this time?” To reinforce the point, Belial even takes the feathers away, leaving only tingling numbness behind. “Go ahead!”

Thirty minutes prior, Djeeta would’ve resisted. She would’ve been too shy, too annoyed with Belial, too stubborn. Now…

Djeeta greedily sucks in air before she speaks. “Please…please use Anagenesis on me. You can use whatever part of me you want. Even—even here.” She wiggles her backside, just in case he wanted clarification.

“Ooh, _that’s_ intriguing…but I’ll need a bit more.” Belial laughs under his breath, as if he thought of a joke. “Say ‘I want to be your sexy bunny maid’.”

“I want…” Her face burns; her fingers clutch at the pillow. “…t-to be your sexy bunny maid…”

“Good. And what about your ‘don’t-wants’—have they changed?”

“Yes,” she admits, louder than before. “You can…you can penetrate me! I-I want it. I want everything you have to give.” Her voice rises into a desperate howl: “So _please use Anagenesis already_!”

“ _That’s_ my Singularity,” Belial rasps, flipping her over onto her back. “Now you get to share Rosetta’s pleasure even more.” He holds her face in his warm hands, staring deeply into her eyes. “Keep your eyes on me, now… _Anagenesis_!”

The familiar rainbow shards glow to life in Belial’s eyes, overwhelming Djeeta’s vision with their dazzling colors. It feels as if she’s…falling…floating through some dazzling expanse of nothing, rolling in crimson silk, her whole body being caressed by invisible hands.

Bit by bit, her mind is fogged over. It fills with thoughts of how beautiful Rosetta and Belial are, how good it would be to touch them. Could she climax just from hearing them talk? Would she like to try? That erection standing proud and slippery between Belial’s legs, Rosetta’s beautiful nether lips ripe with hot juice…she could reach the edge with those, too. All she has to do is obey whatever Belial says.

“How do you feel, Singularity?”

Djeeta shivers as invisible, greedy tongues lap at her ears, her breasts, her sex. “S-So good…”

Belial hums in satisfaction and runs a hand possessively over her body, pinching here, rubbing there, with no clear destination in mind. “You know,” he murmurs, “if I’m going to move deep inside you, you’ll have to be prepared first.” The tip of his tongue wets his lips. “Luckily for you, I have _plenty_ of toys for us to try.”

Djeeta smiles dreamily up at him. “Yes, Sir.”

A loud, rumbling laugh. “There, you see? It’s _good_ to let someone else take the reins every now and then.”

“Yeah…it’s good…” Her body writhes in time with the sensations his words create. “Can we—can we use the toys now?”

“Sure we can!” His gaze flicks to Rosetta for a moment, only to look back to Djeeta. “Hmm…Rosetta, untie her. As for you, Singularity: go check out the treasure chest and take out whichever one seems most intriguing to you.”

“Yes, Sir,” Rosetta and Djeeta’s calm voices overlap like flowers in a bouquet as they follow instructions.

It takes a moment for Djeeta to get her bearings, but it’s not long before she’s able to shuffle over to the treasure chest filled neatly with Belial’s toys. Some look like penises made of glass, with strange bumps and swirls of ribbing. (Rosetta has a few like these on the Grancypher. They feel _wonderful._ ) Others are little handheld machines, with switches and strangely rounded plush tops like mushroom caps. And still more are smaller, flared at the bottom and with thick, rounded points on top. Or there are curious beaded necklaces with no clasp, only flared loops at the end where the thickest bead resides. And in tiny boxes not unlike those for rings, she finds matching soft, smooth…pumps? That’s what they _appear_ to be.

That’s just the first drawer—there are more down below, and they look…rougher…than what Djeeta can handle right now. Even while wallowing in the depths of Anagenesis, she knows that much.

After considering her options, she takes one of the little boxes back over to the bed, where Rosetta and Belial wait patiently.

“So it’s to be the pumps, huh? I can work with that.” Belial leans back against the headboard and pats his lap invitingly. “Now come here and hand those to me.”

Djeeta does so, her knees leaving creases on the sheets as she scoots over to him with her chosen items. The heat rolling off his thighs is as powerful as back at the Purple Feather—perhaps even _more so_.

“Good girl,” Belial croons, and Djeeta’s whole body burns hot with the thrill of being praised. “Now fold your arms behind your head. Let me get a good, long look at you.”

“Yes, Sir…” Cool air plays about Djeeta’s skin as she bares her body to Belial, her clasped hands unable to stop trembling at the nape of her neck. Even though she’s technically still clad in her leotard, her exposed breasts bounce a bit with each breath, and the leotard still tugged to one side leaves her eagerly-throbbing sex without any fabric to shield it.

Belial opens the little box, not taking his eyes off her. “Do you know what these pumps are for?”

“No, Sir.”

“They’re for your nipples…and that eager little clit down there. Sound good?”

She nods so enthusiastically she can feel the bunny ears bouncing. “ _Yes_ , Sir!”

“Ha! That’s very good.” He twists the knobs between his fingers, testing them. “Let’s see, now. You’re a sensitive little bunny, so let’s play it safe and set these at a ‘one’ for the time being.”

Djeeta watches, transfixed, as Belial carefully places a pump at her left nipple, followed by the other at her right. As soon as his hand pulls back, her breasts are assailed with a soft, insistent suckling sensation like two relentless mouths. “ _Oh_ …this is…!”

“Ah-ah-ah, don’t move your arms,” Belial warns, and she groans at the extra feeling of phantom fingers rubbing between her legs at obeying. “That’s better. Now…” His leer travels to below her waist. “…Let’s give this cute part some love too.”

Djeeta sucks in a breath as Belial carefully eases the final pump onto her already-aching clitoris, followed by a slight, sultry pushing and pulling motion as the pump goes to work. With all three going, everything feels so…hazy. All she wants to do is rock her hips back and forth and let everything melt away…

“And finally,” Belial cups her face in his hands, forcing her to stare into his eyes, “I have another order for you. It’s a bit more complicated this time, so you’ll need to go under for a bit while I give it to you… _now._ ”

And Djeeta plummets down into the velvety embrace of darkness.

\---

_Snap._

Djeeta opens her eyes and sits up, her head still fogged over. _What was I doing…? I shouldn’t be sleeping, I have work to do!_

“Oh, good, you’re up,” Belial says, resting his back against the headboard and grinning wickedly. “I thought we’d have to kiss you awake. Well? Come on over.”

Djeeta crawls over, aware through the haze that something’s suckling at her breasts, between her thighs. But that hardly matters. _Yes…I have to take care of Sir._

“That’s it, good girl.” Belial hums in pleasure as Djeeta gets comfortable on his lap, her face inches from his chest. “Usually, I don’t mind waiting, but…” He pouts and rolls his rosy-pink nipples between pale fingers. “…it was getting _unbearable_ , you know? I need to be milked at least once a day.”

“Yes, Sir,” Djeeta says, pushing his hands aside to get to work. Salty skin passes her lips, and the hint of sweetness that follows makes her heart race. _How sad…he hasn’t had anyone to take care of his needs for a long while._ She suckles at his nipple daintily, knowing how sensitive he must be. _That’s why Rosetta and I are here—we have to help him!_

Belial strokes her hair with soothing gentleness. “Mm…you’re still so good at this, Singularity.” A small, soft sigh. “Rosetta, you take care of this side for now.”

Djeeta grunts in surprise as Rosetta sits across from her on Belial’s knee, giving his unattended nipple the royal treatment it deserves. Even brushing her hair over her shoulder seems to take too long for her taste—the gesture is quicker than usual, as if she’s late for something. Her lipstick leaves seductive shadows on Belial’s flesh.

“It’ll be extra thick today, you know,” Belial says, smiling dreamily down at them. “And spicy, almost like rum. It’ll feel so _good_ on your tongues, you could climax from that alone…”

On instinct, Djeeta’s sucking grows stronger—she needs to feel Belial’s strange, spicy milk fill up her mouth, glide down her throat. She clings to the back of his jacket for dear life, wordlessly telling him to stay close. Soft, eager little moans slip from her throat, vibrating against his thick flesh. 

“Ah—with the two of you like this, it’ll be soon,” he pants, his warm, heavy hands holding their heads in place as if they’d ever consider moving away. “Yes, yes, yes— _there_!”

Djeeta gasps around his nipple as the milk he promised flows from him like wine, the heady taste and scent flooding her nose and mouth. Every time she swallows, still more arrives. Soon, it’s all she can do not to have it leak out; she gulps it down as fast as she can, even as her mind whirls with dizziness.

And between her shuddering legs—yes, huge ripples of fire sear through her, it’s as he said, sparks dance in her eyes as climax after incredible climax rushes through her every vein.

To her right, she can hear Rosetta in similar throes of ecstasy. Unfortunately, she’s too overwhelmed with her own pleasure to see it for herself. _Maybe later…_

As usual, Belial’s (lack of) refractory period can’t be underestimated. Easing the plugs from Djeeta’s body with a series of slight, tingling _pops_ , he sits back and luxuriates while his milkmaids are still recovering. “I feel _much_ better. But the milking isn’t done yet, you know?” An exploring hand crawls down Djeeta’s back with spidery softness before cupping her backside possessively. “Mm…let’s see…before we do that, I’d like a little breakfast.”

Djeeta instinctively lies back before him, letting her legs fall open to reveal her drenched leotard and the wetness slicking her thighs. Rosetta straddles her with ease, backside pertly raised, her hair falling over her shoulder like a chocolate waterfall.

“Your breakfast is ready, Sir,” they murmur simultaneously, their voices heated with passion.

“Oh, _very_ good. And such prompt service, too!” The bed creaks as Belial crawls to them, audibly licking his lips. “Hmm. Which dish should I start with? Let’s sample both and see.” Loud, slow, wet sounds follow suit.

Rosetta gasps and trembles above Djeeta, her full, luscious breasts bouncing slightly with each movement. “Ah…please be gentle, Sir, I just came…!”

Belial hums an affirmative, and in the soft shadow of Rosetta’s legs Djeeta can see his erection beginning to twitch again. “Don’t worry, I said ‘sample’ didn’t I?” He continues his leisurely feasting as if nothing happened.

Sweat drips from Rosetta’s skin, falling slowly onto Djeeta’s like morning drizzle. “Yes, but…” A beautiful, dazed smile. “…It feels so wonderful…!” Her eyes flutter shut as she comes again, her arms straining to hold her upright.

With a final, shiver-inducing kiss, Belial nudges her onto her back beside Djeeta. “There. Now I can get a good look at _both_ of my darling girls while I eat.”

“‘D-Darling’?” Djeeta glances away bashfully. “Thank you, Sir…”

“It’s true.” Belial inches forward and exhales a warm, gentle breath over her sensitive sex as she jumps a bit in shock. “You need to blow on hot meals before you have a taste, right?” He even has the nerve to wink. How did she and Rosetta ever get so lucky?

Djeeta sucks in a breath as Belial oh-so-gently begins licking and kissing his way along her folds, her leotard not holding back the damp heat of his lips in the slightest. _They’re still wet from Rosetta. It’s like her juices are mixing with mine…!_ She hasn’t been told what to do with her hands, so she can only lie there as her breasts bob about like airships in a gathering storm.

Belial lifts his head for a moment. “You must be a bit sore too,” he acknowledges, before dipping back down to work her tender clit between his lips with feather-softness, his hot gaze boring into hers.

Unfortunately, that slight touch is enough to send yet another climax rippling through Djeeta’s body, leaving her only able to quake and grind helplessly against his gorgeous face. “Thank you, thank you, Sir!” she whines, as his mouth works to swallow every drop. His warm, smooth hands stroke her thighs as if coveting this moment.

After what feels like an eternity he finally pulls back, his chin glistening silver with her and Rosetta’s juices. “Thank _you_ two for another great breakfast,” he says with pride, before wiping his face with a hand and licking up the remnants like a cat with cream.

“Thank you for enjoying, Sir,” Rosetta and Djeeta manage to say through their heavy breathing.

With a dark laugh, Belial gets comfortable on his belly, looking like a king surveying his domain. “Aww, your leotard’s soaked through, Singularity!” His voice plummets into a low, seductive rumble. “And I can see you still throbbing under there.”

Even as Djeeta prickles all over with embarrassment, she reaches down and pets her trembling, pebble-hard clitoris.

“That’s my little maid,” he praises, his tongue trailing over his lips. “When you’re all embarrassed and hot under the collar, that’s the _perfect_ time to play with that cute little clit of yours.” His crimson eyes glow like jewels. “Because the more embarrassed you get, the better it feels…right?”

Djeeta nods, her fingers already growing slick as the previously-established order cements itself further in the depths of her mind.

“Oh, but if it hurts, don’t bother,” he adds, and just like that Djeeta pulls her hand away. “Actually, while we’re resting…I have a question for you two.”

“Of course, Sir.” Rosetta says.

“Heh. Good. The question—from me to a Captain and her cremate—is: how would you two like to stay with me for a while? We can wallow in sensual delights for days and days, get to know each other on a deeper level…all sorts of fun. What do you say? Be honest.”

“We would love to, but…” Rosetta glances anxiously at Djeeta. “…Djeeta’s life is literally entwined with Lyria’s. They can’t be apart for long.”

“Oh.” He frowns. “Why didn’t you tell me before?”

“This is something I don’t want Lyria to share,” Djeeta says selfishly. “There’s no way to fix this, though—”

“—What? Sure there is.” Belial reaches out to touch Djeeta’s chest, just over her heart. “Let me see, now.”

Djeeta’s pulse trembles with excitement as Belial’s fingers reach _through_ her, past skin and bone, past even her heart, and touch…something. In her mind’s eye, it’s a glowing, azure strand of light, two pieces knotted together tight as a mooring line. When Belial’s fingers touch it, her consciousness shivers and flickers dangerously.

From a long distance apart, she feels Lyria jolt with shock and confusion.

 _Oh, no…I need to calm her down!_ Concentrating her thoughts, she sends Lyria a taste of the delirious happiness Belial and Rosetta have given her. _It’s okay, Lyria. I’m safe, I’m happy…_

As she hoped, Lyria’s nerves begin to subside just as Belial takes the strands of their shared life between his fingers.

“Got it,” Belial murmurs. As deftly as Korwa at her sewing station, he undoes the knot connecting the two strands and instead ties their ends together like snakes devouring their tails. “And now your life debt is paid.”

Djeeta sucks in a breath as Belial releases her soul, bringing her back to the present. “Thank you,” she sighs joyfully.

Rosetta pulls her in for a warm, relieved hug. “Yes, this is such good news for both Djeeta and Lyria! Now they can live freely.” 

“And uninterrupted.” Belial’s expression grows more serious. “On that note…there’s some business I need to take care of, so we can have fun without anyone getting in the way. Just a bit of pest control for a guy I know!" He mutters to himself "If I can wake up Lucifer's pet...that should do it.”

“Will you be back soon, Sir?” Rosetta asks, rubbing her arm anxiously.

Djeeta feels the same way, but doesn’t bother repeating the question.

“Of course.” Belial strokes their hair soothingly. “It’ll just be a little while.” With that, he climbs out of bed, grabbing his clothes in one fluid motion. “Well, I better get going, little bunnies. But in the meantime, Rosetta, I want you to work the Singularity open for me, okay?” He looks over his shoulder with a wicked grin. “Oh—and if she’s good, use the feathers again.”

Djeeta crawls over to the side of the bed as fast as she can manage and clutches his waist for dear life.

“You don’t want me to go, Singularity?”

She shakes her head and buries her face against his lower back. Her sweat-slick hands fumble for his heavy sex, trying to will it to life with a few slow strokes from thick base to plump tip. “Your milking isn’t done yet, Sir, remember?” Her pleading is mercifully muffled by his bare muscles.

Sighing, Belial turns around, his half-firm erection bobbing before her face. “Well, I _did_ say that…” When he stands like this, towering over her, his smile seems so far away. “…So give me a kiss for good luck.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir,” Djeeta whispers, and she cups his molten flesh and fervently rubs her lips against his velvety crown until he pulls away, leaving only taste of salt behind.

“Good work,” he says, caressing her cheek with the back of his hand. “Rosetta— _now._ ”

Before Djeeta realizes what’s happening, she’s pulled backward onto her belly with Rosetta’s hair tickling the swell of her backside. “What’s…?” she asks, even as some far-away part of her knows what’s going on and doesn’t resist Rosetta’s hands as they delicately spread open her cheeks, baring her nether entrance.

“I’ll be back soon,” Belial says with an indulgent chuckle just as Rosetta…as she…as her lips and tongue… “I trust you’ll be good bunnies while I’m out.”

The last thing Djeeta hears before she’s pulled under again is the intoxicatingly lewd sound of Rosetta humming in pleasure between her cheeks.

\---

_What’s the “clinical” term you Skydwellers have for your nether entrance again? Tell me, Singularity._

“Anus…”

_Thanks. I don't want any confusion here. Now, what do you want your anus to do?_

“…Feel good…”

_That’s right, good girl. If it hurts, tell us and we’ll stop. If it feels good, you pet your clitoris. Easy, right?_

Her nipples ache as they rub and rub against the sheets in time with her steady hand.

_If you want to try sodomy so bad, Singularity, you’ll have to work for it. Your anus is closed up tight, you know? It needs a gentle touch to get it ready for me. To do that, you will let Rosetta and I play with it with our mouths…_

Something firm and wet is lapping at her, slowly easing her nether entrance open bit by bit. From far away, she can feel the globes of her backside bouncing with each hot lick. Her nerves dance like flickering flames. There’s no way to tell how long it’s been going on for…but it feels good, that’s all that matters.

 _That’s not all, of course. Once either Rosetta and I have you nice and slick, you use these toys on yourself until you can’t stand it. Start small and work your way up. And don’t worry, it’s going to feel_ great _…_

A thick, slippery liquid is being rubbed inside her quivering walls. Then something else, something…round…like a plug. It’s small, but thick, and her nether entrance closes around it, flexing eagerly.

_While you’re working the toys in and out…in and out…remember who you’re doing this for. Say out loud “I’m Sir’s milkmaid”._

“I’m…S-Sir’s milkmaid…”

_That’s right. Just imagine drinking from my nipples, filling your throat with delicious milk. And my penis slowly pumping inside you, filling you up as you come again and again. Your mouth, your vagina, your anus…these are all tools to milk me dry._

Her fingers slip on her own juices. “Y-Yes…milk Sir dry—!” The toy brushes up against thousands of nerve endings as she shudders and squeezes around it.

_Oh, and don’t think I’m just going to take and take. No, I want you to feel just as much pleasure as I do._

It’s time for the next toy. A small, round bead glides past her entrance, followed by a slightly larger one—there are more to come; she can feel the loop connecting them wrapped around two of her fingers. _I wonder if I can reach the end…?_

“I’m back, Singularity.” _Snap._

In an instant, Djeeta’s vision clears. Rosetta is putting the toys to good use as well, her spread legs rubbing against Djeeta’s with each slow thrust. Belial is sitting opposite them on the bed, grinning as he watches them work.

“Like I thought, you two are doing great. What do you think of the beads, Singularity?”

“Um…” She bites her lip as the beads rub at somewhere deep inside her. “They feel…good.”

“Oh, is that all?” Belial chuckles and pats his knee invitingly. “Come here, and I’ll make you feel _better_.”

The loop swaying like a tail, Djeeta picks her way over to him. As she moves closer, she catches the scent of copper on him—it might even be blood; it’s too faint to tell for certain. Any further thoughts are interrupted by Belial scooping her up and laying her belly-down on his lap, her backside fully exposed for his pleasure.

“Comfortable?” he purrs seductively as his fingers catch hold of the loop, making the beads bob about inside her.

Djeeta nods, her fingers twitching against the sheets.

“Then I’m going to move them…like this.” The beads flow back and forth, back and forth, rubbing up against her walls like they’re as desperate for friction as she is. “Oh, you didn’t get the last bead in yet. A little push, and…!”

Air pushes from her lungs in a high squeak of surprise. _I-It’s stretching me?!_ Her hips quake as her nerves flare to life again.

“There. Now, let’s keep those beads as they are, and play with a different place instead.” His big hand glides over her backside and between her thighs, where familiar slippery heat awaits. “Well, well…just _listen_ to that! I love feeling how wet and throbbing you get for me.”

“Th-Thank you, Sir…” She squirms and bucks in time with his overly-soft touch. “Can…can I milk you with this, too?”

“Now, now, be patient.” Belial taps at her entrance, humming in pleasure as it tries to suck in his fingertip. “Either way you look at it, it’s your first time taking a man inside, so that means a bit of prep work. Right, Rosetta?”

“Of course,” Rosetta moans, still playing with herself. “I want Djeeta…to feel as good as I do…”

“That’s why you licked her back door so thoroughly, huh.” His finger circles Djeeta’s swollen nether lips before delicately stirring at her entrance. “I’m a little jealous!”

“You shouldn’t be, Sir.” Rosetta sits up, her hair a tussled mess. “I can lick your entrance as well, as thoroughly as your heart desires. Do you want that?”

Djeeta peeks over her shoulder as Rosetta wets her lips invitingly, while she continues working a large plug between her cheeks. “Oh, Sir, _please_ say yes, it feels so good!”

“Why, after that recommendation, of course I’ll accept your offer,” Belial purrs, but he doesn’t stop touching Djeeta. “In a second. I just want to play with the Singularity first.”

Djeeta ducks her head back down and moans as Belial dips a finger inside the hot chasm of her entrance. “Ah…S-Sir…!”

“Mm?” His fingertip laves against something deep inside her, something that makes her sex throb and ache deliciously. “This is your sweet spot. You and Rosetta must’ve found it before; it’s hard to miss. How’s it feel?”

Djeeta’s feet kick weakly. “A-A bit like I need a chamber pot.”

“Oh?” She can almost _feel_ Belial’s pleased smile smoldering on her flesh. “Well, well, that could be fun.” He rubs against that strange sweet spot a little harder. “I doubt you’ll _really_ wet yourself, but…let’s find out, shall we?”

Djeeta claps a hand over her mouth to cover her embarrassed, aroused cries, but she knows there’s no use hiding it. Not when she’s rocking her swollen nub against his lap like a cat in heat, or her dripping entrance continues to clamp tightly around his finger and refuses to let go. The obscene, syrupy sounds of her own arousal (and Rosetta’s, increasing in speed) drench her ears. And all the while that strange, muscle-deep tension grows ever tighter in her belly.

“Hmm…let’s add another finger.” He chuckles as Djeeta’s entrance quivers and expands around the new thickness. “Can you see, Rosetta? The Singularity’s trying so _hard_ to take me in!”

Rosetta sighs heatedly; the mattress starts to bounce. “S-Sir, I’m close—!”

“Go ahead, let it wash over you.” Freeing his fingers for a moment, he rolls Djeeta onto her back and replaces that empty ache with gently-thrusting fullness again.

Djeeta bites down on the webbing between her thumb and forefinger as Belial’s rocking fingers steadily pick up speed, her hips bouncing along to his lewd rhythm.

“You’re close too, Singularity.” His voice drops into a spine-tingling whisper. “Come on,” he coaxes, “you want to drench Sir in your juices, don’t you? And if you _do_ wet yourself…won’t that be _embarrassing_? It might not even be the fun kind. But if you don’t, your belly will feel so tight and full—ready to burst but not able to.” His lips purse in a mocking moue. “Poor bunny!”

Djeeta’s legs flail uselessly in midair. Her belly _does_ feel taut and heavy like a drum, and every thrust of his hand just makes it worse. She’s not even sure it _is_ urine anymore—it’s more like the back of her clitoris, being stroked and stroked and stroked until she can’t stand it…

The best and worst part: in this position, she has a perfect view of his beautiful face. His eyes are pupil-dark, and his cheeks and throat are flushed with raw desire. He _adores_ the thought of her losing all composure on his lap, and she wants nothing more than to make him feel that way over and over again.

“I can feel the beads filling you up, too,” he murmurs as his fingers crowd around her sweet spot, barely giving her room to breathe. “You’re being rubbed every which way! And just like what Rosetta asked for. Your lover is so kind, you know? _She_ wouldn’t mind if you made a mess of yourself.”

“That’s right,” Rosetta says dreamily, and to Djeeta’s mortified shock she glides her hand over Djeeta’s belly, stroking it…only to with mind-melting tenderness reach down and thumb her nub.

 _Oh,_ Skies _, if you do that—if you do that, I’ll—!_ Her lower body contracts like a blacksmith’s billows. There’s no holding back now.

“Make your Sir and Rosetta wet,” Belial croons, and Djeeta lets out the most pathetically-aroused wail of her life as in a white-hot burst she flexes and squirts all over his fingers, down his leg, and finally soaking the mattress.

“You did so well, Djeeta!” Rosetta goes so far as to give Djeeta’s numb hips a feather-light pat. “And like this, you should be able to milk Sir just fine.”

She can’t make her throat work; her over-sensitive body is still reeling from the aftershocks.

Belial makes a condescending sound and brushes her sweaty hair back from her eyes. “I think she might need a little break. Why don’t I take you up on that licking offer instead?” He sets Djeeta back down on the bed and gets to work slipping out of his trousers, his erection bobbing beguilingly before her eyes with every small shift of his hips.

Rosetta helps him out the rest of the way, sliding his trousers down and off, tossing them to the floor. Then she glides onto all fours before his kneeling form—looking less like a bunny girl, and more like a goddess granting a boon to a worthy petitioner.

Even with that strikingly-erotic sight, Djeeta’s attention keeps returning to Belial’s front. He’s suckling on his drenched fingers as if they’re dripping with honey, his free hand stroking himself to full, flushed hardness.

“Do you know how long your taste lingered on my lips for, Singularity?” The candy-pink tip of his tongue flicks out at the pad of his thumb, wetting it further.

Djeeta shakes her head, entranced.

“Months and months,” he whispers, and his free thumb swirls slowly about his thick foreskin. “I couldn’t get it out of my head.” He peels back the skin with deliberate slowness, allowing her to see the plump, pink tip glistening in the light.

“Sir,” she says, her gaze transfixed.

“Go ahead, ask away!” Belial’s laugh morphs into a moan as Rosetta begins her work behind him.

The words flow past Djeeta’s lips even as her cheeks burn yet again. “May your milkmaid please pamper you with her mouth?” Her hands tremble with the need to touch him, to touch herself.

“Of course you may.” The muscles of his arm ripple as he strokes. “But just for a little while, because _this_ milk has…another destination.”

“Oh, thank you, Sir…!” Djeeta crawls forward and takes him gently in hand. She begins with chaste kisses and licks from base to tip, the raw, naughty scent of him overwhelming her senses with its earthy spice. She isn’t allowed to swallow him all the way to the base like Rosetta can, for fear of choking; the head will do just fine.

“You were right”—he moans again, his hips jerking—“Rosetta is _really_ good at this. The way she… _mm_ …kisses so gently…!” Sweat glistens on his skin like morning dew on a ripe peach. “But Rosetta…you _can_ play a little rougher with me, you know.”

Rosetta hums low in her throat, her feasting growing noticeably louder. “Djeeta,” she says between licks, “do you feel good…?”

Djeeta moans an affirmative, rubbing her cheek against Belial’s hot, twitching hardness. “Whenever I touch Sir, it’s—it’s like I’m touching my clitoris.” She swirls her tongue about the already-damp head and pants as her sex throbs in earnest. “I…I can barely take it…!”

“Remember,” Belial warns, “you’re not supposed to let me climax.”

Djeeta mewls and tastes the spidery, trembling length of a vein. “I know, but—I want your milk so _badly_ , Sir!” She massages his sac greedily, knowing if she aims for his weak spot his climax can’t be far. “ _Please_?” Her mouth muffles her begging as she swallows around the tip, suckling as if it’s the most delicious treat she’s ever had.

“Both of you, stop.” Belial clasps Djeeta’s head and tugs it back, leaving thin trails of saliva clinging from her lips and his twitching erection. “You ‘want it so badly’, huh, Singularity? I guess so, since you were willing to disobey me to get what you want.” His expression is unreadable as he makes a lazy “turn around” gesture with his finger.

Djeeta’s heart races as she instinctively does as instructed, her backside raised up for his inspection. She can feel the beads’ loop still dangling from her nether entrance, tapping maddeningly against her sensitive perineum. Not to mention she’s still dripping from Belial’s fingers before. _What’s he going to do? Is he…_ Her thighs tremble. _…Is he going to penetrate me now?_

“Rosetta,” Belial says, savoring every syllable, “the Singularity’s in need of a spanking.” His laugh has a sadistic edge this time. “I bet you thought I forgot about that! No, we’re doing the full course today.”

Djeeta’s mortified and exhilarated giggles resound through the room as Rosetta does as ordered.

“Aww, what’s the matter, Singularity?” Belial laughs again as Rosetta settles behind her squirming hips. “Are you worried you won’t get to milk me after all? Don’t be. I just need to punish you first!”

Djeeta’s fingers twist in the sheets as Rosetta’s gentle hands glide along her thighs up to her trembling backside. _If it's Rosetta, I'll enjoy it anyway!_

The mattress squeaks under Belial as he gets himself comfortable, sprawled out to her right. “Start out slow and gentle. Let’s see…a ten-count will do, I think.”

“Alright. Here it comes, Djeeta—!”

Djeeta blinks as Rosetta’s palm barely grazes her backside. _That was it?_ She smiles to herself. _Maybe this won’t be so difficult._

“One,” Belial says, his smoldering gaze slowly journeying from Djeeta’s face to her hips and back again.

The second spank is a bit harder than the first, actually making light contact with her cheeks. Unfortunately, it _also_ jostles the beads still inside her, and she jolts in surprise as they wiggle against her walls. _And this is just the start…!_

“Two.” Belial dares to wink at her.

Rosetta gently massages the flesh she’s smacked, making the beads slide around even more. “You’re doing well, Djeeta.”

The third spank actually smarts, the prickling sensation rolling outward from her cheeks to her thighs like a hot breeze. And the massage is _too_ gentle now, even with the hands of someone Djeeta loves so much doing the rubbing. Still, she keeps her mouth shut.

“Three…” Belial reaches out to work Djeeta’s nipples between his fingers, only to pull back just when they tingle with pleasure.

The fourth and fifth spanks force Djeeta to muffle her voice in the mattress, her spine jolting with each smack. But she still doesn’t say a word. She peers at Belial from over her elbows, watching like a hawk as he just…enjoys the show.

“Hey, Rosetta,” he says, after the sixth spank leaves Djeeta biting her cheek and wiggling her hips in the cool air, “This looks like enough punishment. Let me remove those beads for her; they must be uncomfortable now.”

“Of course, Sir.” Rosetta inches back slightly as Belial surges forward, his fingernails lightly scratching Djeeta’s thighs as he catches the loop.

“Okay, Singularity, here they come…” With a pleased sigh, he gives a slow tug, and inch by nerve-tickling inch the final, biggest bead begins to pull free.

“What a naughty sight,” Rosetta murmurs, her voice rich with affection. “They’re shining like jewels from being inside you, Djeeta!”

Wet, sloppy sounds drench Djeeta’s brain.

“And you kept them in for a long time, too. I’m impressed.” Belial’s hand remains steady as he continues his leisurely pulling, his free hand lightly stroking Djeeta’s lower back. “…Oh, and here comes the third bead already! Nice and easy. I think you’ll handle taking me in _just_ fine.”

“I told you, Sir,” Rosetta says proudly, as Djeeta’s arms and legs start to tremble like leaves in a storm, “I wouldn’t expect anything less from my lover!”

It’s here—when her opening is slowly expanding, her walls are squeezing and loosening by turns without letting her come, Belial and Rosetta’s eyes are like brands on her most intimate place, and their words are so, so lewdly kind—that Djeeta’s will finally crumbles.

“Please, oh, please, Sir…I’ll be your good m-milkmaid, I won’t t-try to force you to climax again!” She stares pleadingly at them from over her shoulder, her ears and neck burning crimson. “I…I want you to p-pamper me, l-like I would for you…is that okay?” With fumbling haste she shoves a hand between her legs, petting her clit just as Belial ordered. “Is it? _Is it_?”

“So _cute,_ ” Belial groans, and just like that the remaining beads are yanked free in one brisk movement, leaving a yawning chasm of desperate yearning behind.

Djeeta watches the beads sail over her head and land with a wet clatter on the floor, confused. Before she can register what happened, she’s pulled onto Belial’s lap again, awash in heated cuddles and kisses and a rock-hard erection digging into her lower back. She feels pleasantly small and delicate…like a rare treasure.

“Why are you so adorable, Singularity?” Belial asks, his hot breath caressing her ear. “Here I was, thinking I could hold it in for a little longer…and now I just want to hear that sweet voice of yours melt in embarrassed ecstasy. Is this what Rosetta deals with every day?”

“That’s right,” Rosetta says cheerily, making love to Djeeta’s lips and tenderly stroking her lightly-bouncing breasts, her quivering belly, her slick thighs. “Mm…Sir, would you make her first time gentle, please?”

“Sure.” Belial clasps hold of Djeeta’s waist, carefully maneuvering her backside into straddling his velvety tip. “Now, Singularity…I want you to drop your hips very, very slowly _just_ past the head, and no further.”

“L-Like this?” Djeeta sinks down onto him as best she can, her inner walls stretching uncertainly to try and accommodate this new fullness.

“Mm…stay like that for a bit.” He feathers slow licks against her neck and ears, his hands holding her still as a statue. “This way, you can get used to the feeling of me inside you.”

“O-Okay.” She wants to feel him even deeper, but this is doable for now.

Rosetta looks at her and sighs affectionately. “You look as lovely as I hoped you would.” She’s still massaging Djeeta’s nipples as they roll and harden under her thumbs. “What do you think, Sir?”

“Oh, she’s _lovely._ ” Belial adjusts his grip, holding Djeeta’s thighs open in a lewd “W” shape with ease only a Primarch could achieve. “Especially when you play with her breasts like that…she starts clinging to me like she can’t wait to gobble me up…!”

Rosetta giggles, sounding more like her usual self. “In that case, let me give you two something special.” Redirecting her river of hair over her shoulder, she ducks down between Djeeta’s legs and…

Djeeta barely fights back a whimper as Rosetta laps hungrily at her clitoris. Her useless arms wrap around Belial’s neck for dear life as she attempts to make sense of all this pleasure coursing through her, outside and in.

“You _did_ say you wanted to be pampered,” Belial purrs, and follows it up with “I’m going to start moving now. Just a little bit, so I don’t ruin Rosetta’s nice rhythm!”

Djeeta gasps as Belial’s hips slowly rock up and down, his erection sliding in an out of her as easily as a sword from a scabbard. The soft, naughty slap of skin on skin is enough to drive her mad—and he’s not even all the way in yet.

Then Rosetta resumes feasting on her as if possessed, and all Djeeta can do is wallow.

“Ooh, yeah, Rosetta—don’t let up for a second!” Belial laughs and thrusts a little deeper inside, Djeeta gasping at the sweet weight. “She’s trembling around me…each time you lick her…!”

Rosetta moans happily against Djeeta’s mound as her sensual lips and tongue attack relentlessly from every angle, never giving quarter. Her eyes are back to being glazed over, entranced by Belial’s Anagenesis and not willing to leave.

Which is understandable; Djeeta’s in similar straits.

“Sir,” she pants, her nerves completely consumed by the white-hot length coaxing pleasure from her depths, “Sir’s milk—coming—?”

“Yeah,” Belial rasps against her neck, his fingers gripping her thighs as tightly as they did back at the Purple Feather, “let’s climax together…!”

Even though Djeeta shouldn’t be able to feel his sex pulsing wildly inside her, gushing its searing milk (its seed) over and over…somehow, she _can_. Her walls seethe around him as her orgasm rolls through her like a summer storm, her hips shuddering as the pleasure just keeps coming and coming.

“Good girl, Djeeta,” Belial and Rosetta murmur together, their loving praise only heightening the aftershocks.

Djeeta’s arms finally give out, and Rosetta tenderly eases Belial’s erection free. A good thing, too—as much as Djeeta wants to be a good milkmaid and drain him dry with every part of her that can take him, her eyes keep fluttering shut, her consciousness adrift with them.

“Aww, I guess the Singularity can’t _quite_ keep her eyes open anymore, huh?” A large, gentle hand wipes sweat from her brow. “That’s okay. We’ll have plenty of time together. We can tickle and embarrass and use you as much as you like…maybe even beyond your limits. And the same goes for Rosetta, of course.”

“We’ll need somewhere more scenic if we’re going on vacation, you know,” Rosetta says idly.

“Oh, that’s simple enough; I know _just_ the place—and spell—to keep our fun private. Though on that note…” Belial chuckles wickedly. “…I think my little harem needs _one_ cute guy in it to keep things balanced! And luckily for you two, I know just the man for the job; a real angel, you might say.” 

“Are you going to seduce him now?” Rosetta’s voice sounds blurred and distant as Djeeta succumbs to sleep.

“Hmm…no. He’s the sort that needs a bit of mystique to get him in the mood. For now, let’s just get going to our little vacation home…my lovely girls.”


	2. It's Not So Bad Once You Try It, Right?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Sandalphon attempts a rescue mission and ends up being pampered within an inch of his life instead.

Sandalphon leans his back against a rough-barked tree and stares down at his map. _Fehrtyl Island…yes, this seems to be the place._ Everywhere he looks, he can see bountiful farms and rolling fields absolutely overflowing with all manner of produce—the sort of place one could live well and long. _And an ideal honeymoon spot, if I had my guess._

When Sandalphon woke up, his cradle having toppled to Canaan’s floor for some reason, the Girl in Blue and the Red Dragon were waiting for him. As reunions go, it was a tense one. After some ethical quandaries and his help defeating the destructive Avatar for good, they gladly accepted a failed (Supreme) Primarch into their crew.

But there was something… _strange_ about the Grancypher when he arrived. Lyria was happy, if a bit adrift. And the Singularity and Rosetta were nowhere to be seen.

Of course, crewmembers went out in search of them, from Lowain the eccentric cook to the beautiful and mysterious Izmir. No island was left unexplored. One by one, they all came back with letters from the Singularity reassuring Lyria that she was fine, just “on honeymoon with Rosetta”, and that they would meet up in Estalucia… _someday._

It’s been almost a year, now, and “someday” is no longer enough. Sandalphon can’t _stand_ how tight-lipped these crewmembers are about where they received the letters, how much more relaxed they seem to be since they returned. This all reeks of one particular Fallen Angel’s plots, and only Sandalphon can face him.

And so—after Siegfried _finally_ gave him something concrete to work with—he’s here on Fehrtyl Island, looking for a kidnapper and his victims.

Just as Sandalphon puts away his map, something wet splashes onto his hair. _Ugh, of course it would rain. Well, I have time to walk…_

Warm summer rain continues to drizzle down as Sandalphon pulls up his hood and trudges to the nearest village. The dirt road to get there is a long, winding snake of a thing, but surely he can manage.

_BOOM._

Sandalphon jumps as the air fills with the bitter tang of ozone. “Curses, not lightning too!” He’s only encountered it a few times since joining the Grancypher, and the memories of destruction claw at his chest with cold fingers.

There’s nothing for it: he drops to his belly and crawls into the relative safety of the woods. He’ll have to find a hollow tree to hide in for tonight. And perhaps if he follows this churning river here (keeping a safe distance), he’ll find a shortcut to the village. It’s a start.

Sandalphon doesn’t dare get to his feet as thunder crashes overhead, and lightning lashes through distant trees (but not distant enough). Too slowly it dawns on him to ditch his _very_ conductive breastplate, and his fingers grow clammy and chilled as he digs through the loam to bury it for later. 

_There._ Chilly rain lashes his hooded tunic, making him shiver. He's in such a hurry he doesn't bother to mark the spot like Lyria showed him. _Now, to find somewhere safe._ He straightens up from his crouch, and…

…Is that a light, glowing through the trees?

It _is_ : a golden flicker of warmth and comfort, just a ways down the river. All he has to do is keep going straight, and perhaps he might find a friendly Skydweller on the other side.

 _Squelch, squelch, squelch._ His steps make an unpleasant cacophony as he goes from a walk to a brisk trot, eager to be out of these wet clothes. The closer he gets to the light, the more aware he becomes of his disheveled appearance: the dirt under his nails, the clear view anyone would have of his pale gooseflesh through the drenched fabric.

_That can wait. For now, I need shelter!_

At last, he bursts through a copse of trees and stands panting before a beautiful riverside mansion, painted lilac and with a charming garden just beyond the surrounding wooden fence. The windows are overflowing with light…and the ornately detailed front gate appears locked. Are those _genitalia flowers_ , or are his eyes playing tricks? No matter.

Sandalphon launches himself over the gate, rain sluicing at his cheeks and hair. “Hello?” he calls over the din. “ _Hello, can anyone hear me?_ ”

Ah, that’s right. He’ll have to knock.

Acutely aware of the mud he’s smearing all over the immaculate little stone walkway and front porch, he squelches up to the front door and bangs the knocker as loud as he can.

 _Bang bang bang._ (Thunder explodes above.) _BANG BANG BANG._

At long last, floorboards creak on the other side of the door, and a tenor voice calls “My apologies, but just—one—moment!”

Dazzling light and gentle warmth pour out before Sandalphon, and he shields his eyes on instinct. When he lowers his arm, who should he find on the other side but Lancelot, the most recent Singularity-hunter, staring at him with blue eyes wide with shock.

“ _Skies_ …is that you, Sandalphon? You’re soaked to the bone!” Lancelot yanks him inside by the arm, hastily removing his boots for him and pushing him into the mudroom. His fire-warmed body is like a salve against the clammy cold. “Wait here, I’ll get you some fresh clothes!”

Even a room this small is comforting after the deluge outside. Sandalphon wiggles his stocking-clad toes awkwardly on the warm, dry stone floor as he yanks off his wet and suffocating attire. _Ugh, this is hardly how Lucifer's heir should appear!_ He hops around madly trying to force his leather trousers past his hips. _Curses_ _, curses, curses—whoa!_ And pitches forward, tangled in his clothes and his chin bumping the floor.

“Here you are...” Lancelot rounds the corner with an armload of clothes and gasps. “Oh, no, let me help you! We can’t have you in these for another moment.”

He swoops over and starts mothering Sandalphon straight away: propping him up, helping him out of his trousers (even folding them and setting them aside), and after a bit of mutual wriggling doing the same with his hooded tunic. 

Lancelot sighs with relief as he towels Sandalphon off, the fabric softer than anything the Research Lab’s garden ever had. “I think you can get these on your own, now!” he jokes, and hands over a fresh white tunic and dark blue trousers.

Sandalphon grunts “Thanks” and slips into the new clothes with ease. Then he stands, and realizes that these are made of _silk_ , slippery and warm and teasing against his already-sensitive skin. “I’m sorry for intruding, but with the rain—”

“—Oh, you don’t need _my_ permission,” Lancelot says with a nervous laugh. “Come on, I’ll take you to the owner of this house. He’ll get you settled in!”

Sandalphon puzzles over these strange circumstances as Lancelot leads him through an absolute maze of rooms, all warm and inviting, filled with comfortable chairs and couches. Some even have beautifully-forged weapons hanging on display—it’s not hard to guess who made those. _The Singularity_ is _here!_

Something else occurs to him. “Where is your Vice-Captain?”

“Vane?” Lancelot’s chuckle has a hint of shy nerves to it. “He’s…occupied, currently. Oh, would you like some tea?” He makes a brief detour to return with a porcelain teapot and cup upon a silver tray.

“No coffee? …Very well, thank you.” He’s _trying_ to be polite as he gently lifts the cup and saucer and takes a sip. Delicate bitterness mixes with honey on his tongue, bringing pleasant, warm comfort with it. _I would still prefer Lucifer’s coffee, but…well. That opportunity is long gone now._ “It’s delicious.”

“Good! Bring it with you,” Lancelot assures him with a smile.

And they’re off again, down to what appears to be the study. The door is a deep, dark mahogany, and Lancelot’s knock reverberates delicately through the hall.

“Um, Sir Belial? I’m sorry to interrupt, but you have a—Sandalphon, wait, don’t open it!”

But Sandalphon can’t be bothered to listen, not while _that damned name_ is still ringing in his ears. “Belial!” He shoulders the door open and bursts through, seething. “Why is Lancelot here?!”

A wet, obscene sucking sound melts into the air, tickles at his fraying temper.

“S-Sir Belial,” Vane pants, his tussled blond mop of hair and huge bare, heaving chest drenched with sweat the only things visible from behind the long table. (Thank the skies for that.) “Is it…okay…if I stop for now?” 

“You bet,” says the man seated before him, his voice making Sandalphon’s skin crawl with its smooth, low over-intimacy. His deep purple sleeping robe is open and halfway down his arms, baring the sloping muscles of his bone-pale back to all and sundry. “You, Lancey and I can set up a little date later tonight. 10:30 sound good?”

“You bet!” Vane grins that puppyish smile of his as he scrambles around for his shirt, finds it, and galumphs out of the study with a hurried “Hi, Sandy!” over his shoulder.

Sandalphon waits in silence for Belial to finally turn around…but he doesn’t. “That’s Lancey out there, right?” Long, pale fingers press together and snap once.

Lancelot ambles over to Belial, his hands clasped behind his back in a gesture that _should_ feel formal, but somehow has a hint of lewdness instead. “Yes, Sir Belial.” His guileless gaze slowly travels down to Belial’s chest, and his cheeks grow dusted with pink. “What do you need me to do?”

“Get the paperwork for Sandy to look at, and tell Rosetta and Djeeta we have another… _guest_.” Belial chuckles and threads a hand through Lancelot’s black hair, giving him a good rub behind the ears. “And thanks for taking care of Sandy, too.”

Lancelot sighs in pure contentment, wallowing in Belial’s touch for longer than any reasonable person should. Then he ambles over to a desk tucked in the back of the room and pulls out a leather-bound book. Holding it like a priceless relic, he carries it to Sandalphon, saying gently “Don’t worry, it’s nothing dangerous.”

Still, Sandalphon cracks open the book with an intense feeling of trepidation. Inside appears to be Terms of Service written in Rosetta’s elegant, looping cursive, explaining such things as room and board, and obvious binding oaths such as “ _you will not kill anyone, for any reason_ ”.

(Curses.)

Then comes an unexpectedly-straightforward header concerning “Sexual Activities”. Most of it is standard, if embarrassing to read. _“Any sexual activities performed in this house will not be spoken of outside of it for the sake of everyone’s privacy”_ is normal enough. But under _“Concerning Anagenesis (Belial’s Charm Spell)_ ”, there is the curious line “ _please note that if one wishes for the effects to continue indefinitely, that is up to our discretion_ ”. What could _that_ mean? A test of courage?

“What _is_ this nonsense?” Sandalphon asks, as he stares at the “Guest Desires and Dislikes” section full of checklists of sexual acts, some less physical than others. “Is this some sort of…bawdy house?”

“Close!” Belial says with a rasping laugh, and finally turns around to face him. His crimson eyes glitter with untold mischief. “Rose Queen and the Singularity figured if _they_ got to have all this steamy fun with me, they may as well pass me around to their friends. Or rather,” he laughs again, “pass their friends around to _me_.”

“They can’t have agreed to that on their own!”

“Oh, you’d be surprised. The little penpal system we set up goes a long way.” With a roll of Belial’s shoulders, his sleeping robe is back in place. “Of course, nobody’s managed to truly meet our _selective_ criteria for permanently staying here under my spell. But…” He winks. “…I have high hopes for you, Sandy.”

“And what if I refuse to do any of this?”

Belial stares at him like he grew four arms. “…You _do_ realize you can only find this place if the desire’s already there, right? Mansions that happen to meet your exact needs don't just pop out of nowhere, you know.” He ambles over, his hips swaying slightly. “And besides, if you refuse, you’ll leave here with a vague notion of having met Rosetta and Djeeta, enjoying yourself, getting a letter from them, and nothing else. That’s what happens to everyone when they leave here—and it’s _Djeeta’s_ design.”

“Stop _calling her that_ ,” he rasps, horrified.

“Oh, so _you’re_ on first-name basis with her now?” Belial raises an eyebrow. “That’s news to me.”

“It's a matter of formality.” Sandalphon glares at him then down at the paperwork, his thoughts a jumble. “So my only hope is to agree to this and see what happens?”

“It’s a start,” Belial purrs, leaning down a bit to look Sandalphon dead in the eye. “And who knows? Maybe you’ll find an answer to that yearning that’s been gnawing at you for centuries.”

“How do you know about that?” he bristles.

“You’re not exactly _subtle_ , Sandy.”

Sandalphon looks down at the paperwork again and closes his eyes, trying to think of any possible nightmare scenario. _Then again,_ a traitorous part of him says, _if not even_ Belial _is allowed to kill anyone, and that oath is binding…how much safer can it be?_

Crimson eyes meet crimson. “Very well,” Sandalphon says with a nod. “I’ll give this… _nonsense_ …a try.”

“That’s great to hear, Sandy,” Belial says with a grin, clapping him on the back. “Now, I’ll let you fill all that out—ask Lancey for help if you need it, these Skyfarers are so _kind_ —and we’ll look it over in the master bedroom at 8:00.”

“Is that your only free time?” Sandalphon jabs, remembering the earlier comment to Vane.

“Exactly.” Belial’s shoulder ripples in a lazy shrug. “A lot of people have come calling lately.”

As the fallen angel struts out into the hall, Sandalphon makes sure to check off “Voyeurism” as a desire. After all, how can he save the Singularity if he only sees part of the picture?

(He takes a certain spiteful glee in filling every blank space with the words “only if Lucifer is here”. It makes his heart ache, but it will be worth it to see Belial’s face.)

\---

At 8:00, the rain still drumming relentlessly on the windows, Vane brings Sandalphon up the carpeted stairs and down a hall to the master bedroom, rapping his knuckles on the whitewashed door.

“I brought Sandy, Sir Belial! And his paperwork, too.” He adjusts his tray bearing the paperwork in question and smiles reassuringly at Sandalphon over his shoulder.

Sandalphon wants to claim he isn’t nervous, but he’s certainly pensive. Even with everything written out plainly, he has no idea what this is going to play out like. And he hasn’t seen the Singularity yet—will she look different, or the same?

“Come on in,” Belial calls cheerfully.

Vane pushes the door open and strides through, leaving Sandalphon to creep in alone, his feet sinking into the rose-red plush carpet.

Not that he minds: he gets a full view of the bedroom, and it’s quite a sight. The décor seems designed more to Rosetta and Djeeta’s tastes than Belial’s, which is for the best in his opinion. The pure white walls only serve to make the pale pink four-poster bed appear even more like a vision from a daydream, all sheer lacy curtains and glistening silk among mounds of pillows. And more rose-decorated wardrobes than two people could logically use, a mirrored vanity large enough for a Draph man to sit at comfortably, potted roses the color of myriad jewels awaiting the daylight…yes, this is definitely their room.

“Lovely, isn’t it?” Belial drawls, staining the tranquility with his very presence. He’s sprawled out on the bed and reading Sandalphon’s paperwork with rapt attention.

It takes Sandalphon a moment to realize Vane left, leaving them alone yet again. “…Yes, it…suits them.”

“Glad you think so. Hmm…” Belial flips a page and chuckles. “You better have been honest about these, Sandy, or you’ll _really_ regret it.” Is there a hint of edge to his voice?

“Of course I was, don’t be ridiculous!”

“Even ‘Exhibitionism’ and ‘Voyeurism’, huh…? Well, there’s only one way to find out.” Belial pats the spot beside him on the bed invitingly. “Did your fellow guests caught your eye?”

He frowns at the wall. “Why should that matter?”

“ _Voyeurism_ ,” Belial purrs, savoring each syllable.

“…Oh.” He racks his brain, trying to think of which of the two might not mind being naked for him. “L-Lancelot. I think.”

“You ‘think’? _Seriously_ , Sandy?” Belial sighs in exasperation, and his mood shifts back to mellow again. “Well, you always _did_ prefer them lean and blue-eyed." He sighs again when his bait dangles in the air, untaken. "In any case, let’s bring him up.” Pulling a little bell out of his robe pocket, Bell lets it peal merrily a few times before putting on the bedside table. “He’ll be a few.”

Sandalphon reluctantly sits on the edge of the bed, as far away from him as possible. “What about Anagenesis?”

“Oh, don’t worry, we’ll get there.” Belial grins at the sound of footsteps coming down the hall. “Someone else is eager tonight.”

Sandalphon opens his mouth to reply, only for the door to open instead.

“Good evening, Sir Belial,” Lancelot pokes his head in, looking surprised to see Sandalphon. “Oh! So you _are_ staying, Sandalphon, that’s excellent news!” He closes the door behind him and walks over to the bed with careful, measured strides.

“It is,” Belial agrees, “and there’s something I need you to do for him, Lancey.”

Lancelot nods, his eyes wide. “Anything, Sir Belial!”

“Okay.” Belial sets Sandalphon’s paperwork aside and gets comfortable, one knee sliding lazily up toward his chest. “Sandy isn’t sure if he likes voyeurism, so I want you to put on a little show for us.”

Oh.

Oh, _no._

Sandalphon’s breath catches as Lancelot reaches for the collar of his tunic. “You—you don’t—”

“—It’s alright, Sandalphon,” Lancelot says, slowly undoing the buttons on his collar, then the rest, letting his shirt fall open bit by bit to expose his slender, creamy chest. “This…feels good, you see. My skin grows hot and tingling, and…” He trails delicate fingers along the swell of his pectorals, just barely brushing his dusky-pink nipples. “…Can you see how hard my nipples become…?”

Sandalphon nods, unable to speak.

“They were hard before, actually.” Belial pillows his cheek on his hand and smirks. “Were you playing with yourself before you came here, Lancey?”

“Y-Yes…” Lancelot’s throat bobs as he thumbs his nipples with a touch that can only be too delicate.

“Good, you’re following your training regimen well. Too bad it’ll be over tomorrow. Anyway…what were you thinking about, huh?”

Lancelot’s legs begin to tremble. “I was thinking a-about your hands and mouth, Sir Belial.” His hands lose their rhythm for a moment, only to hastily find it again. “I…I love the way you touch me!”

“Mm…Sandy, can you see how hard he’s getting?” Belial laughs indulgently. “Like a little pillar on the roadside.”

It’s impossible to miss. Sandalphon can’t help gawking as Lancelot’s trousers begin to twitch and tent, the seam giving way to his arousal. “Are you going to relieve him?”

“In a bit. Lancey, kneel in front of Sandy and check if he’s firming up.”

Lancelot does so, his gaze fixed with embarrassing intentness on Sandalphon’s waist. “Hmm…it seems to be getting there, Sir Belial.”

“Oh? That’s better than I’d hoped,” Belial says, as Sandalphon tries to comprehend why he can’t bring himself to block Lancelot’s view. “Give him a little tickle along the seam, will you?”

Sandalphon’s fingers clench in the sheets as Lancelot’s finger lightly scratches at his trousers, just enough to hint at friction. “What you playing at?” he grits out.

“You know, Lancey was in a similar position to you,” Belial continues, as if he didn’t hear him. “He was so _uptight_ , always talking about honor this, Feendrache that, on and on.” A pause. “Lancey, what’s your role here?”

“To serve you with all I have, Sir,” is the painfully earnest reply.

“Good boy,” Belial croons, and Sandalphon _somehow_ finds heat beginning to coil in his belly. “Now give Sandy a good pampering, he’s had a long day!”

“Yes, Sir Belial,” Lancelot whispers. Warm, calloused hands rest at the waistband of Sandalphon’s trousers, and he pulls them off with ease to reveal his black briefs. “Pardon me…” He dips his face down and inhales deeply, his thick, dark lashes closed in reverence.

“Heh. How’s his scent, Lancey?”

“Oh, Sir Belial, it’s so… _raw_ …” Lancelot sniffs again, his awed moan vibrating tantalizingly between Sandalphon’s legs.

“Sounds delicious.” The sound of a sash being undone almost competes with the rain outside for intensity. “I can barely _wait_ to get a whiff myself…but I’ll abstain for now.”

Sandalphon tries to think of something to say—anything—but his thoughts are scattered to the skies as Lancelot feathers chaste, too-gentle kisses over the front of his briefs, his dark hair tickling Sandalphon’s thighs. The Captain of the Dragon Knights is palming his swelling sac, clearly enjoying their soft weight in his hand. One of the finest knights Feendrache has ever known is mouthing his growing erection through his briefs, looking up at him with nothing short of chivalric tenderness. 

Captain Lancelot, the Azure Wind himself, is earnestly trying to please him…all because Belial said so.

“Oh, _no_ ,” Sandalphon groans, his hips rocking under Lancelot’s relentless worship. “I-If you keep doing that, I’ll—ejac—”

“—You’ll come?” Lancelot’s sapphire eyes alight with erotic intensity. “Oh, very good, Sandalphon! But I’m supposed to pamper you, so…here.” He grips Sandalphon’s erection firmly at the base and keeps going, tugging the drenched briefs down to sample the thick foreskin and sensitive head begging for more friction beneath.

Sandalphon wants nothing more than to thrust, to ejaculate, to do _something_ other than remain trapped in this infernal pampering…but he can’t deny that he’s enjoying this, either. (He just won’t say it aloud.) So he sits there like a fool and lets Lancelot’s hot, eager-to-serve mouth and hands do as they will, while the mattress shakes under their shared weight.

“Okay, Lancey, take him in,” Belial whispers; amidst all this seductive, molten suction it takes Sandalphon a little too long to realize that he’s sitting right next to him now, his breath hot against his ear. “Do you want to come, Sandy?”

He’s never felt like this in hundreds of years, even from his own hands. Of _course_ he wants to.

“Good. Do you want to feel as good as Lancey and the others?”

“ _Please, please_ …!”

A cavernous chuckle. “Okay, coming right up.”

Cool fingertips gently turn his face toward Belial’s. Sandalphon’s whole body shudders in a dizzying combination of lust and nervous excitement, unable and unwilling to look away as Belial’s eyes roll back in his head, crimson light flows from them bright as a supernova, and—

“— _Anagenesis._ ”

Even as Sandalphon plummets under Belial’s spell, down and down and down into velvety darkness, he can feel Lancelot working to bring him to the absolute brink of pleasure without any regard for his own. A knight to the very end.

\---

The next day, Sandalphon awakens in a bed as wide as his wings with a strange, hungry feeling. And not from needing food; it’s something harder to quantify. He doesn’t bother investigating his azure-walled room—no doubt he’ll be seeing it often enough. He would much rather sate this emptiness instead.

“Good morning, Sandy!” Vane says bright as always when he opens the door. “Here, I brought you breakfast in bed!”

“…Oh.” Sandalphon shuffles backward as Vane sets the little four-legged tray down, laden with a plate of fluffy pancakes drowning in butter, crispy bacon gleaming with oil, and a bowl of fresh strawberries with cream. “My thanks…but why?”

“It’s our last morning here, and Lancey and I wanted to make it special.” Vane looks at the spread and gasps. “Oh, crap, I forgot your coffee milk!”

Sandalphon raises a hand to stop him, but he’s already gone. _I don’t need milk in my coffee…yet somehow that seems like something worth trying a sip of._ Still thinking it over, he occupies himself by eating the breakfast already here—and cleans both plate and bowl in short order. _I was hungrier than expected._

“I’m back, here you are,” Vane trills, hair rumpled and his cheeks slightly flushed. “Sir Belial said to keep the coffee and milk separate this time, in case you’d rather a little taste of it first!”

Sandalphon looks at her askance. “ _Belial_ told you that? Then I…” His mind flashes to the Terms and Conditions. “…Hmm. If he can’t kill me, then I suppose…yes, thank you.” He takes both the thick porcelain coffee mug and smaller cup of milk off Vane’s hands, the spoon jostling around with the motion.

Vane leans forward, her eyes wide with endearing yet uncomfortable curiosity.

“…You don’t have to watch me do this, you know.”

“But I’ve never made coffee before. I want your expert opinion!” He even goes so far as to take out a little notebook and fountain pen.

 _This_ he can handle. “Very well, watch carefully…!”

With unwavering hands, he pours a small trickle of milk into the coffee and stirs it in, wondering idly if lavender milk is common on this island. _No, it’s a local phenomenon. But who told me that?_

“Hmm, curious…the milk’s color made the mixture darker, rather than lighter.”

“Color…changes with mixture…” Vane mutters, the pen bobbing energetically as he jots this down.

“Now to inhale the aroma,” Sandalphon says for his benefit. Lifting the cup to his nose, he takes a whiff…and is taken aback by the spicy scent that floats up seductively instead of the regular bitterness he expected. “Hmm. It’s…certainly _different_ , even with this small amount.”

“Really? What d’you mean?”

As he explains to Vane about coffee beans, grinding, texture and scent, he finds himself sampling the coffee milk ahead of schedule. As expected, there’s a spicy bitterness to it that feels strangely sophisticated, almost alluring. He doesn’t dare say so aloud, of course. Merely saying “It’s good” will suffice.

As he hoped, Vane looks delighted to hear even those simple words. “Hooray, now I can make some for Lancey when we get back!” He drags Sandalphon into a bear hug that's nothing but chaste, yet Sandalphon’s face burns all the same. “Thank you so much!”

And then Vane leaves with his empty tray…and the cups.

 _Wait a moment._ He vaguely remembers reaching the dregs of each, but…did he really do that while talking? _I suppose it tasted better than I thought._

Unfortunately, that strange, gnawing hunger is back again, and stronger than before. After dressing in identical clothes as last night’s, he leaves the bedroom in search of a cure. _If I find the Singularity during my search, so much the better._

\---

Vane and Lancelot said farewell to the Singularity before they left with letters for Lyria in hand, but Sandalphon still hasn’t found her or Rosetta. Since it’s still raining, there’s little reason to go out into the garden, so he stalks the maze of halls and rooms instead, the odd hunger-that-isn’t gnawing away at him.

 _Finally,_ he thinks of going to Belial’s study, and finds the man himself painting at an easel, facing the sunny window.

“Good morning, Sandy,” Belial says, not looking up from his painting. “Still missing Lucifer’s inability to even hold your hand?”

“Yes,” Sandalphon says, just to spite him.

The muscles of Belial's arms strain as he stretches, the paintbrush remaining held delicately between his fingers. “Well, maybe a little arts and crafts will perk you up. C’mere.”

Sandalphon walks over, annoyed that he didn’t even think of refusing. Curiosity gets the better of him as he goes to stand beside Belial, watching him dip the paintbrush into a small pot of pink paint and add another tiny ruffle to the petals of a large blooming rose. It’s a beautiful, intricate creation—the petals have fragile networks of blood-red veins—with a strange three-dimensional feeling to it.

“You’ve made better use of your immortality than expected,” he says grudgingly.

“Why, thank you! See, that wasn’t so difficult, was it?”

“Humph.” Sandalphon continues watching Belial paint, the constant repetition of “brush and refill, brush and refill” oddly hypnotic. “So. Where might I find the Singularity?”

Belial chuckles like he just heard a joke, now gracing the inner petals with darker purplish-pinks. “Who knows? She might even be in this room.”

Taking that as a clue, Sandalphon sets to work turning the study upside down. She isn’t under the desk, nor the table. There are no secret passages hiding behind the bookshelves (alas), so that only leaves one option.

“You can’t possibly mean she’s behind the canvas,” Sandalphon mutters—only to realize that there’s something strange going on with the back of the easel. He may have lived a rather sheltered life, but he even _he_ knows most easels don’t glow a dark, provocative purple. “…Wait a moment.”

Belial’s brush whispers in the tense silence.

“Where does this portal lead, Sir Belial?” The honorific comes to him with annoying ease. 

“A charming riverside rendezvous for my little maids' eyes only.” He crooks a finger, and Sandalphon follows like a fish being reeled in. “As for what’s going on _here_ , well…watch.”

Sandalphon’s eyes widen as the center of the rose _twitches_ when the brush makes contact with it, the whole inner flower shivering and trying to grab hold of the object of its creation. It’s then that he realizes the painting isn’t on canvas at all—at least, not entirely. It’s been painstakingly brought to life _between a woman’s legs_ , with only the inner thighs and genitalia visible. 

“This… _creation._ Is this Rosetta, or the Singularity?”

“Good question!” Belial replies cheekily. “They both make for lovely canvases, though Djeeta has a certain _specific_ charm.” He takes his sweet time licking the pad of his thumb, getting it wetter than necessary. “You see, she _adores_ being tickled and embarrassed by people she has the hots for.” Reaching out, he rubs his thumb light as a feather over her clitoris, chuckling as it pulses hungrily at his touch.

“… _Why?_ ”

“Because it gets her off, obviously.” Belial snorts. “Lucifer should’ve taught you _that_ , at least.”

Sandalphon bites his tongue, but only just.

“Anyway. I’ve been at this for a few hours now, and she knows you’ll be around to see her like this at some point. Assuming Rosetta's playing with her on the other side…” He only bothers to wet the brush this time, using it to tease the Singularity’s swollen and trembling labia. “…She must be _really_ feeling it today.”

Sandalphon can’t stop staring. But he also can’t bring himself to do anything else.

“Isn’t this what you were after, Mr. Voyeur?” Belial leans forward and drags his tongue over the whole of the Singularity’s sex, finishing with a tight little swirl over her defenseless anus. “You get to see the Singularity _and_ rub one out.” 

The problem with putting himself down as a voyeur and exhibitionist, Sandalphon soon discovers, is that he’s innately far too polite for either. It feels like a bone-deep violation of others’ privacy. So even with a tableau of sexuality unfolding before him—the Singularity’s chubby toes curling with arousal, Belial smothering his face between her legs as if he’s never tasted anything better—Sandalphon has never felt more bored to tears and self-conscious about it in his life.

“Sandy? You can come any time, you know,” Belial coaxes between licks. “Go on, come. _Come._ ”

But even a direct order can’t make him bring himself to climax. Perhaps it’s the sheer intensity of what’s happening, or the knowledge that he’ll be playing into Belial’s hands. Regardless, he only looks on with a bone-deep yearning for the Research Lab garden and Lucifer, as the Singularity’s plump thighs thrash about in unfathomable ecstasy.

“Does that conclude the arts and crafts session?” he whispers into the sudden silence, his throat almost too dry to speak.

Belial lifts his head, devouring Sandalphon with his eyes. “Come on,” he drawls, his voice sounding a little hoarse, “we're going upstairs.”

\---

“You _truly_ believe I lied on the questionnaire? Nonsense.”

“Don’t play the unruly student with me, Sandy. I'm not in the mood.” Belial stands in the center of the master bedroom, rubbing his temples. “The commands and triggers I devise are tailored to _both_ our needs—where’s the fun in having my partner be a gutted fish?—and if you lied, I have to do the whole spell over again.”

Sandalphon leans against the door and watches Belial pace. “…I don’t think _all_ the triggers failed,” he says quietly. “Just the one.”

“The dreaded voyeurism and exhibitionism, right?” At Sandalphon’s nod, Belial clicks his tongue in annoyance and stalks over to the bedside table. It seems the paperwork is still there. “Removing those and replacing them with something else should work fine, but with what, I wonder…?” Pages whisper as he turns them. “You didn’t mind when I watched Lancey wring you out last night, so there _must_ be a difference there that I’m not seeing. What do you think, Sandy?”

“Lancelot was more physically direct,” Sandalphon replies automatically. “Today, I could see the Singularity… _intimately_. But even if you told her beforehand, she had no idea I was there. It was as though…she and I were being experimented on.”

Belial jerks his head up. “Say that last part again?”

He blinks, taken aback. “What, ‘experimented upon’?”

“Experimented upon…experiments… _oh._ Yes—that’s it!” Belial turns on his heel, arms spread as if to sweep Sandalphon into his second bear hug today. “Of course you weren’t hot and bothered; you don’t want to just _observe_ and _be_ observed. You’ve done that all your life!”

“…Why should that matter?” He gets the feeling he won’t like the answer.

“Because, Sandy,” Belial purrs, slinking over to the door and lazily trapping him between hard wood and warm, supple leather, “you want to be spoiled _rotten._ ”

Something about the way he says that, so deliberately, seductively gentle, sends taut heat dancing through Sandalphon’s veins. “Explain.”

The sound of Belial wetting his lips so close to his ear is maddening. “Was it lonely, waiting for Lucifer in that garden?”

“…Yes.” Sandalphon snaps his mouth shut with an angry _click._

“Oh, I bet,” Belial croons, his hand tantalizing inches from Sandalphon’s cheek. “It must have hurt on those days when he couldn’t make it. Your only other contact would’ve been the Astral researchers—and they would be too cold at best. And then, when you _finally_ figured out your true purpose…well. I don’t think I need to ask how that felt.”

He isn’t going to let this get to him. He _won’t._

“You don’t know how lucky you are,” Belial continues, a hint of annoyance in his voice. “Every other Primarch was born with a role, _except you._ ” He sighs. “But you want one so terribly…”

“I made my choice.”

“Did you?” Belial shrugs, as if to say _That’s neither here nor there._ “My point, Sandy, is that you’ve never had anyone just… _take care_ of you. Not unlike Lancey or Djeeta, actually. Your methods are different, but it’s all the same madness.”

“And you can fix me?” It’s meant to be a rebuke, but it comes out like a question.

“No, not quite. You’re an adorable wreck, you know.” Belial leans in, close enough to kiss. “But I _can_ give you whatever role your desire. From your fantasies to my ears…what’ll it be?”

He wishes his throat wasn’t so dry, but he manages it: “I don’t know what ‘spoiled rotten’ would look like, but it sounds pleasant enough. So…whatever role you think would fit.”

A pause. For a long, heart-sinking moment, he wonders if he made a mistake. After all, Belial could construe that in a hundred terrible ways.

Then Belial smiles, looking almost comforting. “Yeah, I have an idea. Now…look into my eyes, Sandy.”

Sandalphon’s ready this time. He keeps his eyes on that red, glowing light, and listens to Belial’s voice as he plummets down into Anagenesis’ depths yet again.

“ _Tell me the truth, now…what do you_ really _desire, Sandy?_ ”

This time, Sandalphon obeys.

\---

“Sandy…? Come on, sleepyhead, it’s time to wake up.”

Sandalphon opens his eyes and finds that he’s still in the master bedroom. He can’t have been asleep long; maybe a few hours, if that. The mattress creaks as he sits up, looking around for whoever spoke.

“Oh, good, you’re awake,” Belial says, setting down the fire poker and holding his hands in front of the blazing hearth. “I was worried you'd dream the day away!”

He shakes his head. “Don’t worry about that. I’m a light sleeper. Is something the matter?”

“Hmm? No, not at all. I just need to help you get dressed.”

Sandalphon climbs out of bed and waits as Belial goes rummaging in a wardrobe. He returns with what looks like a gauzy sheer robe, just long enough to reach his thighs. When Belial holds it out, he immediately raises his arms and lets the robe fall over his head. It caresses and tickles his bare, sensitive flesh from his shoulders to his inner thighs. But more than that: the very touch of fabric on skin fills him with a strange, warm sense of being cherished and adored.

“Like I thought,” Belial murmurs, looping the crimson sash about his waist and tying it in a perfect bow, “it’s a great fit for you, Sandy.”

Sandalphon peers at the bed, where an onyx jewelry box lies waiting. “Are those for me as well?”

“Of course! Let’s see, here…” Belial flicks open the lid and pulls out two golden anklets, both engraved with delicate carvings that match those on the front gate. (It's still hard to say if they're flowers or genitalia.) “I picked these out just for you. Sit on the bed and hold out your foot for me.”

Sandalphon does so, surprised at how easily Belial glides to his knees before him. It’s difficult not to stare, as Belial gently takes hold of his foot and eases the oddly warm anklet past his toes and instep to its destination. It feels…not _tight_ , but rather _constant_.

“How is it, Sandy?”

“Strange, but comfortable,” he answers automatically.

“Good. Now for the other.”

Even when the other anklet is in place, something still seems off. “My wrists are bare.”

“I know,” Belial says with a sly grin, revealing that the anklets were part of a set all along. As he slips the matching bracelets onto Sandalphon’s wrists, his fingertips linger for a moment longer than they should…and the warmth he leaves behind lingers longer still. “There! Now you’re—oh, wait, you need your heels, of course.”

Sandalphon doesn’t need to be told this time to give his feet into Belial’s care. Nor does Belial need to make such a show out of something as simple as taking shoes out of a purple box…but he has to admit, these creamy-white high heels _are_ beautiful to look at with their polished leather, and he slips into them just as easily as he would his regular boots.

A low, awed whistle. “ _Wow_ , Sandy, aren’t you a vision!”

“Humph. Only obscenity will follow that compliment, I’m sure.”

Belial just smiles. “Come on, let’s go for a stroll.”

Despite Sandalphon’s suspicions, he winds up following Belial out into the hall and down the stairs, his gossamer robe dancing and swaying against his skin with every step. To distract himself, he focuses on Belial: the leisurely ripple of his muscled legs as he walks, gold lamplight glinting in his auburn hair, the curve of his fingers against the slope of his hip.

And this doesn’t help at all. Each step down means more movement from his robe, which means more thinking about Belial, which makes the fabric feel even better as it rubs and rubs and _rubs_ every damned inch of him… 

“Am I holding you up, Sandy?” Belial was a few steps below him a moment ago; now he’s looking intently into his face, so close Sandalphon can see every ink-dark eyelash.

“Yes,” he grumbles, marching down the stairs and determined to pretend everything is fine. “Now, where did you want to go, Sir?”

“I was thinking wherever caught _your_ eye.” Belial slips in behind him with ease, a mere foot between them. “I’m sure somewhere did, right?”

“The garden,” Sandalphon responds, ignoring Belial’s response, and heads down the maze-like hallways in search of the exit.

With each step he takes, each corner he rounds, the jewelry around his wrists and ankles chime merrily. Each gentle _ring-a-ling, ring-a-ling_ reminds him of Belial’s body heat warming his back, his gaze unwavering. It’s… _strange_ , being wanted like this. But it isn’t unwelcome.

“Sandy,” Belial rumbles pleasantly, “hold still and let me take a closer look at you.”

He glides to a stop as efficiently as a wind-up toy. “…Yes, Sir.” The honorific brings further heat to his veins.

Floorboards creak, and hot breath caresses his prickling nape as Belial whispers “Ah…like I thought, you’re flushed here. And your ears too…” The soft, gossamer flick of a tongue. “Hey, now you’re trembling! You _definitely_ need a more thorough inspection.”

Sandalphon nods, not resisting as Belial’s smooth fingers stroke his hair as if playing a harp. He sways on his feet, a bit lightheaded, but doesn’t fall. “I think…it’s growing worse.”

“Where?” Belial reaches around Sandalphon’s back and strokes his lips with two gentle-but-insistent fingers until they part, too numb and tingling to do anything else. “Here?”

“Y-Yes.” Sandalphon’s gaze snaps to Belial’s fingers, his breathing growing shallow. “Sir, your fingers…they go in my mouth. I need”—he shifts his weight—“to suck on them until my mind goes blank.”

“ _That’s_ right. Good boy.” Belial’s fingers move closer to his lips, and it’s all he can do to resist wetting them with his tongue. “Hmm. Before we reach the garden, we’ll need to stop by the kitchen first. But before that…have a taste, Sandy.”

Tentatively, Sandalphon pokes out his tongue and licks at the fingertips before him. A moan escapes him as tart saline graces his taste buds. But the slight taste isn’t enough: minding his teeth, he carefully engulfs Belial’s fingers down to the knuckle, the thickness and elegance of their construction sending dizzying heat through his lower body. Even forming a prison with his lips makes his eyes flutter shut in overwhelming pleasure.

“Hey, now,” Belial chides, pulling out his fingers with an obscene, disappointing _pop._ “I said a _taste_ , Sandy!” His sigh ghosts against Sandalphon’s ear. “Well, I _did_ say I would train you too. So come on, let’s go get what we need from the kitchen and visit the garden! It’s a nice day for an outdoor session.”

Sandalphon isn’t sure why exactly they need a picnic basket if they’re going to be “training”, but at the same time it _is_ intriguing to listen to the faint _clinks_ of glass inside. That curiosity occupies him until they reach their destination.

“We’re not doing this out on the grass, don’t worry,” Belial answers before Sandalphon can ask, pointing at a gazebo near the riverbank.

Sandalphon admires the wooden gazebo as they ascend the whitewashed stairs, the planks solid under his feet. The view from inside is exemplary: from the back, the river is just close enough that one can see glimmers of fish jumping now and then, and to the right lies a lovely little garden full of fresh vegetables and flowers in a riot of vivacious colors. The plump red divan inside might look haphazardly-placed, but in reality it has a good view of the surrounding area from any direction.

“Now, then,” Belial says, setting down the picnic basket and patting his lap. “Have a seat, Sandy.”

Sandalphon sits down, keenly aware of the sensual heat radiating from Belial’s chest and thighs. “What now, Sir?”

“I was thinking you’d like a drink before we get started.” Belial reaches into the picnic basket and retrieves a bottle of the same strange purple milk from breakfast. The only difference is, this bottle has a curious brown stopper. It looks oddly soft, and not unlike a nipple. “Interested?”

“Humph.” Taking the bottle off Belial’s hands, he removes the stopper and takes a wary sip. His taste buds burst to life as the same spiciness from before covers his tongue, and he barely waits to swallow before taking a longer drink.

“ _Savor_ it, Sandy,” Belial orders, and reluctantly Sandalphon swills the milk around, marveling at the way the heady taste lingers and fills every inch of his mouth. “Much better. You can have more, just…take your time about it.”

“Yes, Sir.” And he takes another sip, resting his head on Belial’s shoulder and basking in the pleasant warmth that accompanies the gesture. “It’s good.”

“Glad to hear it.” Belial chuckles and curls a hand about Sandalphon’s waist, stroking the shadowed indent of his hip. 

“Companionable silence” isn’t what one expects from being close to a Fallen Angel, let alone the Primarch of Cunning, and yet it is. Sandalphon’s posture grows more relaxed the longer he’s surrounded by this pleasant, contented quiet, and by the time he’s reached the bottle’s dregs Belial has to hold him up. _Hmm. I should ask for more…_

“Sir?”

Belial looks down at him, his smile expectant.

“I would like another bottle.”

“There’s something else you need to say, you know.”

“…Please, Sir.”

“That’s better.” Belial takes out another bottle of milk and hands it over. “You know, there’s a lot that goes into training a man like you. It’s a rare treat, being able to mold you into the ideal pet for me.”

Sandalphon pauses halfway through popping open the stopper. “How so?” He feels a bit lightheaded already, the words _rare treat_ and _the ideal pet_ looping deliciously in his mind.

“Before I tell you: you can drink from that stopper you’re about to take off. Why not try sucking it, see how it feels?”

He dips his head down and slides his mouth around the stopper, the sensation of the tip rubbing against his tongue far more sensual than it has any right to be. _Like this?_ His lips form a tight “o” around the tip—and as soon as he starts sucking, tingling pleasure hums through his nerves.

“See, Sandy?” Belial’s fingers glide up to Sandalphon’s chest, just barely grazing his nipples. “It tastes better this way, doesn’t it?”

“Mm,” he agrees wordlessly, the milk’s erotic spices flowing down his throat like silk.

“Rosetta and Djeeta might be my lovely milkmaids, but I hardly want my adorable pet to go without. There's plenty of my milk to go around.”

Sandalphon's heart jolts in his chest; he jerks his head up and hastily wipes a thin trail of saliva from his lips. “…This—this is from _you_?” he sputters. “ _How?_ ”

Belial laughs under his breath and pulls back the lapels of his jacket with a finger, revealing the massive swells of his chest and their taut, rosy peaks. “Why, from here, obviously! It’s one of many centuries-long pet projects of mine.”

Sandalphon can’t stop staring. There may be a slight dampness around the areola, but there’s no _possible_ way a Primarch can lactate…right? The beguiling scent matches the milk to an exact science, but it must be a trick. It has to be.

“Now, now, don’t be greedy! You need to finish that bottle first.”

Sandalphon resumes suckling, but even with the delicious milk warming his belly, his gaze remains glued to Belial’s nipples. They’re so plump and inviting, and with the slight condensation around their areolas, they look ready to burst. _Will milk taken directly taste better, I wonder?_ It’s hard to comprehend such things.

“Have you ever played with your nipples before, Sandy?”

He lifts his head to speak. “N-No. Is that part of training as well?”

“Yep. Here…if I lightly drag my fingers over your areolae like this…it feels good, right?”

Sandalphon’s toes curl in his boots. He nods, still trying to finish the bottle clutched in his unsteady hands.

Belial’s chuckle rumbles against his nape. “But it still isn’t enough. If I rub them a little harder…”

Sandalphon nearly drops the bottle as a seductive, prickling heat spreads out along his chest. “Have—have you shown the Singularity this yet?”

“She already knew about it.” Smooth, warm fingers roll his nipples until the churning, yearning heat becomes unbearable. “I’ll be sure to tell her you felt this pleasure worth sharing, though.” A wicked pause, one that lasts far too long for Sandalphon’s comfort. “Keep drinking, Sandy.”

 _What if I choke?_ Despite his concerns, Sandalphon chugs down the final third of the bottle, the delicious fire in his veins still unabating. In fact—it feels like between the milk and Belial’s touch, his body’s only growing hotter and hotter.

“Good boy,” Belial murmurs, and Sandalphon _feels_ his mind dip down into a blanket of velvety darkness before resurfacing again. “Now put the bottle down and face me.”

The bottle rests on the gazebo floor with a _clink_ , which Sandalphon barely registers. His focus is on turning around completely to straddle Belial, pressed chest-to-chest and their hot breaths mingling. _His lips are so full and inviting…why did I not notice that before?_

“Sandy, what do good pets deserve?”

Sandalphon’s eyes remain glued to Belial’s lips, on the candy-pink tongue that flows leisurely across them. The answer floats up from the depths of his mind like steam from a cup of coffee: “…Caresses, Sir.” 

“Mm-hmm.” And Belial pulls him in for a kiss, the molten slide of skin against skin making his lips tingle. The moan Belial makes as his lips part doesn’t help—the electric vibration coaxes Sandalphon to mimic him, inviting him deeper inside.

Sandalphon gasps as his mouth is filled with the thick, slick heat of Belial’s tongue. It’s like a carnal massage; every coaxing flicker against his tongue makes his hips rock furtively, desperate for friction. _Ah…how do Rosetta and the Singularity endure this? It's overwhelming…!_

Just as he begins to truly luxuriate, Belial breaks the kiss with a wicked smile. “It’s not over yet,” he says reassuringly, unbuttoning his jacket and letting it pool behind him. “Rub your nipples against mine slow and sensually while we kiss.”

As soon as their lips and chests meet, Sandalphon melts in both body and mind. It’s like he’s sliding against hot silk, every teasing roll of their nipples and glide of their tongues only making him want to do it again, _harder_. Belial’s sweat—and liquid with a sweeter scent—flow onto Sandalphon’s chest, creating even more sticky friction between their lustful bodies.

“My milk really did the trick, huh,” Belial murmurs after breaking the kiss, his hand splayed possessively over Sandalphon’s back to keep him pressed close. “You’re all dizzy for it now…!”

Sandalphon looks down at their rocking chests, his throat growing dry. “Sir, will you—will you lactate soon?”

“Have a taste and see,” Belial orders softly, angling Sandalphon so that he’s in the perfect position to nurse: cradled on his back, head propped up by Belial’s hand, his cheek pressed against the heavy swell of Belial’s chest.

And to ruin the chastely-caring atmosphere completely, Belial slides his free hand along Sandalphon’s flushed, trembling body as if mapping his territory, chest to thighs, and completes the journey by cupping his pet-in-training’s erection through his dampening robe.

Of course, that’s just a formality: Sandalphon’s arousal blazed to new heights the instant that he tasted Belial’s nipple. Every hungry pull of his lips, the merest hint of now-familiar seductive spice on his tongue…they coax him onward, ever closer to his delicious treat.

“Someone's eager!” Belial says with a rasping laugh, not giving Sandalphon an ounce of respite, coaxing his swelling arousal into full, aching hardness. “My hot, fresh milk will be filling you soon, and you’ll dissolve into pleasure…are you ready for it?”

Sandalphon moans urgently around Belial’s nipple, rutting into his hand with the barest hint of embarrassment. He can almost feel the milk gathering behind Belial’s areola, moments away from spilling out into his mouth. _Please, Sir, hurry…hurry, hurry, hurry…!_

Belial continues praising him, reaching beneath his robe and fondling his phallus until it’s nothing more than a soaked, quivering mess. Sandalphon watches in awe as his beautiful onyx lashes flutter closed in contented pleasure, his throat and shoulders bobbing with silent laughter—

—And just like that, he’s drowning in hot, foaming milk, while in the same instant his orgasm slams into him like a lightning strike. His vision fades into white static, every nerve in his body seeming to melt down into nothing at all.

“That’s my good pet,” he hears Belial croon above him. Distantly, he feels his body being placed in the cushioned comfort of the divan. “I have one more bottle here, full to bursting with something just as satisfying for you, if not more so.” A stopper is pulled free and rolls across the wood floor. “This ‘milk’ is more… _bitter_.”

Sandalphon’s vision flickers back to life, and he blinks dazedly at Belial kneeling over his waist, slowly shaking a bottle of white fluid from side to side.

“While you were resting,” Belial says casually, “Rosetta, Djeeta and I made sure to fill this bottle with our love for you.”

His heart jumps in his chest. “…‘Love’…?” 

“Yeah.” Then, softer, “it’s our love juices, all stirred together, just for our darling Sandy.”

Sandalphon doesn’t know what to say as Belial reaches down to tenderly brush his sweat-drenched hair back from his face. That such affection was awaiting him _here_ , of all places…it seems nonsensical. And yet, here it is, tangible and reciprocal. _The only time I ever touched Lucifer was when he was already dead. It didn’t matter before, but_ now _…_

“Let’s start with a little taste.” Belial bends down, rests the chilly lip of the bottle against Sandalphon’s mouth. “Say ‘aah’, Sandy.”

“ _Aah_ —?”

Sandalphon starts slightly as the first trickle of “love juice” lands on his tongue. It’s as bitter as advertised, and thick with salt. But where he expected a jolt of arousal, he instead feels…like he’s floating. Adrift in sunset-drenched clouds, swaddled in velvety contentment and affection. Nothing could reach the happiness of his hazy, bittersweet memories of coffee with Lucifer, the sun glowing in his hair, but this comes closer than he ever imagined.

“Want some more, Sandy?”

Sandalphon nods, tilting his head up for another sip.

The second taste is more thorough than the first, the pearls-and-silver juice trickling past his lips until he licks it up. As with the milk earlier, he swirls it around in his mouth, wallowing in the flavors of Rosetta, the Singularity, and Belial. The floating, cradled feeling only intensifies with each pass; his mind ambles close to sleep.

Belial sighs contentedly and cozies up next to Sandalphon, still holding the bottle for him. “The girls will be _so_ glad you like it. We drained ourselves dry thinking of you…of what you’d be like as my adorable pet.”

Sandalphon imagines their desperate masturbation while consumed with thoughts of him, and shivers. “Is that why I haven’t seen them lately?”

“Well, not the _only_ reason,” Belial says, tipping the bottle down again so Sandalphon can drink some more. “This is their little honeymoon spot, remember? They can’t get enough of each other.” He laughs under his breath as yet more love juices flow into Sandalphon’s mouth like an unrelenting current. “They go on romantic boat rides down the river, tend to the garden together…sometimes, they just share a _very_ long bubble bath.” An almost sentimental expression crosses his face. “They’re so _adorable_ , pretending a Primal Beast won’t outlive her mortal love.”

 _So_ that’s _why you claim this is a mere vacation._ Sandalphon absorbs this information and the bottle’s sticky contents with equal intensity.

The glass is cool against his fingers as he tries to take the bottle for himself—but Belial pulls it out of reach instead.

“Ah-ah-ah, Sandy,” he chides, looking stern. “You can’t chug it all down _just_ yet! Look, here’s another way.” So saying, he stirs a fingertip inside, coating it thoroughly with gilded pearly fluid, and pops it into his mouth. “Mm…” His eyes close in ecstasy as he sucks his finger with the same enthusiasm Sandalphon used on his nipples. “…I love this overwhelming taste, don’t you?”

“Yes, Sir,” Sandalphon says dreamily, and to his rising joy Belial dips his thoroughly cleaned finger back into the bottle and holds out a fresh, sticky coating for him.

“I got a lot of my girls’ juices on this one,” Belial says, as Sandalphon glides his tongue along the musky, dripping mess like it’s cake icing. “I can’t _wait_ to have you between their legs with me, Sandy. Rosetta feels so soft and lush against my tongue, and Djeeta is so cute when she spreads her thighs and says”—his voice glides into a sweet falsetto—“‘Please, Sir, your tease-toy needs to be licked’!”

Sandalphon moans yearningly around another swallow of love-juices, his phallus swelling to life again.

“You like that too, huh?” Belial rasps out a laugh. “Sometimes, when she’s being extra adorable and sexy, I like to imitate her. Hopefully you’ll get to see her embarassed reactions soon…”

He _does_ want that, now. He yearns to remain in this floating, gossamer contentment forever, to feel the same pleasures that Rosetta and the Singularity feel. But…

“You know,” Belial says in his sultry rumble, as he pours the rest of the love juice down over Sandalphon’s thighs, rubbing the full, sticky fluid into the blooming crown of his phallus, “I think Lucifer would want to see you happy. Whenever he came back from the garden, he had this… _glow_ about him, you know? Like just seeing you smile was enough to make being Supreme Primarch worth the cost.”

“I…I felt the same—” The divan creaks as Sandalphon struggles to acclimate to Belial’s hands caressing him through his robe, the wet silk teasing his slippery tip.

“Then let go, Sandy,” Belial coaxes, his eyes bright and shining with what _must_ be an earnest plea. “It doesn’t have to be forever…right?”

_Even if it isn’t truly forever…it would be precious._

“Please, Sir,” he says in a whisper, clutching at Belial’s shoulders for dear life. “I want to milk you again. From your phallus this time.”

“By all means,” Belial purrs, and as soon as he frees his hard erection Sandalphon’s mind bottoms out, his worries about _forever_ replaced with the thick, naughty scent wafting past his nose, and how good the velvety slide of the swollen, pink tip will feel against his tongue. “And once you swallow around the head, you’ll officially become my beloved pet. That’s all it’ll take. Ready?” 

“Thank you, Sir, thank you—” Sandalphon’s head spins as Belial moves to straddle his face in one liquid motion, his vision filled with eager flesh and the flutter of abdominal muscles taut with anticipation.

The last thing he hears before he plummets down, down, down into luxurious, debauched bliss, is Belial murmuring smugly “That’s checkmate, Lucifer.”


	3. It's Our White Night (We Can Just Melt Away)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which Belial takes stock of his newfound harem, and manages to both angst and gloat simultaneously.

“Sir…Sir, it’s morning, wake up!”

Belial grunts and pulls the silk sheets over his head. “Not yet. Don’t want to…”

“Here, let’s do this,” says a new voice in the distance.

The bed shifts a bit as two people crawl closer to him, shaking the lump he’s made. Whoever they are, they’re quite insistent.

Make that _extremely_ insistent: they lift up the covers and crawl in, groping about for him.

“Where”—soft, adorable little pants—“Where _is_ it? If I don’t milk Sir soon, then he’ll be in pain…”

“Heh. Found it!” Warm, calloused fingers settle on his bare thighs, making straight for between his legs. “As expected, it’s hardening. Now then…if I kiss here, and lick the crown”—a gentle flicker of tongue over the head—“ _mm_ , just so, the response _should_ be…”

“Ah, Sandy, don’t be unfair!” Soft, frantic kisses rain down on his firm shaft. “ _I_ need to milk him, remember?”

How could Belial ignore that? Blinking sleep from his eyes, he sits up and lifts the covers to better admire the view before him. “Well, now,” he says, leaning back against the headboard with a grin, “you two are up early.”

Sandalphon, the _ex_ -heir to Lucifer’s throne, sits crouched over Belial’s waist, caressing his penis like it’s his favorite toy. (Which it is, with only Rosetta and Djeeta’s bodies coming close to comparing. Oh, and Sandy’s own penis, of course.) He isn’t dressed yet, since that’s Belial’s job, with his only attire his matching bracelets and anklets glittering dimly in the half-light.

Djeeta’s beside Sandy, trying to nudge him out of the way with her cheek. “Rosetta said—we could go ahead of her today,” she grunts, sliding the thick foreskin down with practiced ease before dipping her tongue inside.

Belial pushes the covers off completely, and takes a moment to drink her in. From the top and at a glance, at least, her black maid dress looks normal enough—a simple rounded collar, short, ruffled sleeves, and a white apron over her chest and torso. However, the closer one looks, the more one finds… _inconsistencies_. Namely, that spotless white apron is the only thing keeping her bountiful breasts covered—there’s a massive hole cut out of the chest area, since in her case Belial finds buttons a nuisance. And the skirt just barely covers her ample hips, the vanilla white petticoat underneath doing more to _expose_ than to hide. In fact…the only thing keeping her modesty intact is the sheer white pantyhose clinging to her legs like a second skin.

“I knew that dress would suit you, little maid,” he says with a smile, playing with the white bunny ears on her headband. “On that note…why not let Djeeta do her job, Sandy?” 

“I couldn’t wait any longer, Sir,” Sandy says, emphasizing the point by nuzzling his cheek against Belial’s shaft. “You were still asleep.” His once crimson eyes, now a provocative pink, glow with delicious lust. “That wouldn’t do.”

“Heh. Good point,” Belial says, reaching out to ruffle Sandy’s mop of auburn fluff. “My pet needs to keep his schedule.”

It’s part of his daily routine: after taking breakfast, Sandy always comes to Belial for dessert.

Sandy leans into his touch, his thick lashes bright as brass. “Yes, Sir…” He sighs, the sound pure, bone-deep contentment. “…Thank you for taking care of me.”

“Oh, it’s no trouble at all.” Belial flicks a glance down at his softening erection. “If you want to give thanks…you and Djeeta can take care of _me_ together.”

Sandy starts. “Ah—yes, right away, Sir!”

Djeeta and Sandy resume their play, showering Belial with sloppy kisses from base to tip. They look absolutely _adorable_ like this, with their fingers laced together around his shaft and their hot, desperate breaths tickling his skin. Not to mention the way Sandy reverently brushes Djeeta’s blonde locks back from her face when they get in the way; she’s his princess just as much as she’s Belial’s tease-toy and milkmaid.

“Share me between you,” Belial orders lazily, folding his hands behind his head and basking in the attention. “There’s plenty to go around, after all.”

Sandy tilts Belial’s erection toward Djeeta’s eager tongue, watching enraptured as she worships him thoroughly. “Djeeta,” he murmurs, “your flushed cheeks are so beautiful…”

“Yours are too, Sandy,” Djeeta replies in kind, before taking in Belial’s tip and working her mouth around it with a fevered moan. Her free hand delves between her trembling thighs, and the erotic slippery sounds that follow send yet more heat pooling in Belial’s lower belly. 

Sandy’s in similar straits, judging by the velvety hardness rubbing against Belial’s calf. “Sir, I—”

“In a moment,” Belial assures him. “Let Djeeta get the seed she’s due. You can play with my shaft in the meantime.” 

Sandy whispers his thanks and sets to tracing Belial’s spidery veins with his soft, wet lips and tongue. Over the months he’s become a pet, he’s been slowly learning how to please and be pleased in turn. He’s still too nervous to try receiving anal, but he’s taken to oral like a _natural_. Why, just yesterday Rosetta rode his face so thoroughly he almost drowned in her hot juices. (They’ll be more careful next time.)

“Sir,” Djeeta whimpers, licking the silvery pre-ejaculate dripping Belial’s crown like it’s the sweetest syrup she’s ever tasted, “you’re twitching—is it close?” The hot cavern of her mouth engulfs it again, and she looks at him with pleading eyes that could melt even _Bubs’_ bitter old heart.

“Yeah, don’t stop,” Belial orders, his hips tense and shivering with the urge to thrust into her until her throat writhes.

He won’t, because when he last tried it Djeeta’s arousal turned to dust, and as a consequence Anagenesis’ spell nearly broke. That wouldn’t do. He “settles” for letting her hollow her cheeks around him, massage his twitching shaft until it could melt in her loving hand, and—

Djeeta’s cry is muffled as his orgasm flows through him like rapids of fire, and he ejaculates ribbon after hot ribbon of thick seed inside her warm, obedient mouth. Not a drop escapes. Her skirts and thighs tremble as she joins him over the brink of pleasure, her eyes closed tight to savor the moment.

“Good work, Djeeta,” he rasps, slipping free with ease. “Now Sandy can finish me off.” 

Sandy’s grown quite adept at swallowing Belial’s erection down to the root, working him with the soft, warm cavern of his throat. (It helps that whenever he does so, he gets as hot and bothered as if _he_ ’s being deepthroated. A convenient little order Belial gave him early on.)

“What an adorable face you’re making, Sandy,” Belial purrs as his pet absolutely _wallows_ in the sensation of his mouth being filled with his favorite toy. “I love seeing you so happy.”

Sandy's grateful reply is muffled as focuses on squeezing his lips and throat around him in a lewd rhythm. Every so often he draws back enough to love the leaking tip with little flicks of his tongue—and then takes him back down to the base again, moaning happily at the velvety thickness massaging his throat. With each seductive bob of his head, his blush-pink eyes brim with happy tears. 

Djeeta sighs dreamily and slips her hand between Sandy's thighs. “Just a little bit...right, Sir?”

“Good pets deserve caresses,” Belial agrees, enforcing one of Sandy's commands in the process.

Of course, Sandy is dutiful by nature, and provides _just_ enough hot, slick suction to ensure Belial’s sticky satisfaction drenches his face when he pulls out, the white seed glowing in the morning sun.

“Good work, as always,” Belial says, grinning as Djeeta kisses and licks Sandy clean. “Okay…now it’s time to get Sandy dressed.”

Djeeta’s eyes light up with joy, and she looks toward the wardrobe expectantly.

“What will I wear today, Sir?” Sandy asks, leaning his chin on Djeeta’s slender shoulder.

Belial ambles over to the wardrobe and starts pawing through his options. “Let’s see—you wore Rosetta’s panties yesterday, so let’s try something warmer today, since it’s a bit nippy.” Humming to himself, he pulls out an onyx-black sweater of high-grade wool that just reaches Sandy’s thighs. The chest area has a slit to show off his creamy-pale cleavage—and allow fingers to slip inside. “Yeah, this should do! Oh, and these black sheer briefs will match…”

Sandy’s already standing with his arms above his head when Belial walks back over, and he slips the sweater on easily. “Such warm softness…thank you, Sir.” He gives an adorable start as Belial eases the briefs up his legs and over his waist.

Djeeta giggles, leaning forward to get a better look.

“Something wrong?” Belial teases, drawing the lace waistband taut before letting it snap back against Sandy’s pale, trembling thigh.

Sandy takes a deep breath. “No, Sir, it’s fine.” He’s perfectly composed again—too bad.

“Okay.” Belial rises to his feet and slips on a soft, purple bathrobe; the hot summer days are over, now, and he can’t just wear his birthday suit anymore. Oh, well.

“Oh dear, sorry I’m late!” Rosetta says, her bunny-eared headband entering the room before she does. As usual, she looks stunning in that soft black leather leotard and delicate sheer mesh. “I was considering some options and lost track of time.”

Sandy’s all ears. “What sort of options?”

Rosetta twirls a long strand of loam-brown hair around her finger and smiles coyly. “ _Well_ …last night, Djeeta said she missed riding me, and she _does_ have three ‘entrances’ that need filling. So why don’t we try using them all at once? We haven’t done that yet.”

Djeeta’s eyes widen, and her fingers begin their slow, hesitant crawl between her skirts. Once upon a time, even Anagenesis and a direct order couldn’t convince her to give double penetration a shot. But _now_ —after over a year of teasing, training, ensuring that every day she wakes up slick and ready to milk her beloved Sir dry—she looks at Belial with anticipation burning red-hot in her rosy eyes.

Why not tease her a little bit first, to further get the juices flowing?

“Hmm, I’m not sure…” Belial rubs his chin, pretending to think it over. “These days, Djeeta can barely take _my fingers_ in without squirting everywhere. With all three of us rubbing against her cute parts until they’re numb, making her come and come…why, I think she might lose her mind to pleasure!”

Djeeta trembles with excitement, her skirts rustling in agitation. “Please, Sir?”

“Sure we can, little maid,” Belial says indulgently.

Her smile is so adoring and sincere, even Lucifer would want to…no. He opts not to finish that annoying thought. 

Sandy crosses and uncrosses his legs. Wets his lips nervously. “I-If we _do_ agree to this, then we’ll need to prepare her more thoroughly than ever before—”

Rosetta giggles mischievously and sways over to Djeeta. “Oh, that shouldn’t be a problem!” She leans down and whispers something in Djeeta’s ear that prompts her to get on all fours and lift her skirts up past her backside, revealing…

Belial laughs and gives Djeeta’s plump, trembling backside an affectionate pinch. “So _this_ is what my little tease-toy has been forging! And it matches your eyes, how sweet.” He leans down to get a better look at the petal-pink, heart-shaped butt plug nestled so snugly between her cheeks—and the cursive cut into the metallic material. “‘In Service’, huh…? Now why didn’t you _tell_ me, little maid?”

Djeeta looks over her shoulder at him and gives a coy smile. “I wanted you to be surprised, Sir.”

“Oh, is _that_ all?” Belial chuckles and takes hold of the base of the plug, dragging out the removal of it for a few seconds longer than necessary. Who wouldn’t want to see their favorite tease-toy squirm for them? “In that case, it worked quite well.”

“Sir,” Sandy mutters, staring at Djeeta’s anus in awe as the plug is freed with lewd, extra-slippery fanfare. “Her nether entrance, it’s spread open so thoroughly…!”

“She’s worn it since early this morning,” Rosetta explains, getting her harness ready. “In fact…it took some work, but Sandy has one too!”

 _…Really?_ That earlier start of surprise makes more sense now.

“I hope you don’t mind, Sir,” Sandy says awkwardly. “They were…very gentle about it.”

“ _Hardly_.” Belial twirls his finger in a lazy “turn around” gesture, and Sandy joins Djeeta with his ample backside in the air, shivering as Belial rips open his pantyhose like it’s a candy wrapper. Sandy’s plug is bronze and smaller than Djeeta’s, but the words decorating the base are no less charming.

“‘In Training’ is right,” Belial murmurs proudly, not bothering to remove it. “What about you, Rosetta—do _you_ have a little message for me too?”

“Of course!” She doesn’t so much climb in next to Djeeta as she does bless the mattress with her graceful legs and cascading hair. The crimson harness and matching dildo make a provocative statement as she delicately tugs her leotard to one side, revealing a plug identical to Djeeta’s. “We match for you today, Sir!”

Belial furrows his brows. “Hmm…this complicates things a bit.”

“Why is that, Sir?” Sandy asks, peering bashfully over his shoulder. 

“ _Well_ …between my two milkmaids being ready to be used”—he cups Rosetta and Djeeta’s backsides possessively, ensuring each little rub of his fingers makes their hips thrust into his touch—“and my pet still needing to be trained, it’s hard to choose. What should I do, I wonder…?”

“B-But _Sir_ ,” Djeeta rocks up into his touch, her skirts rustling fretfully. “Before, you said—!”

“We have plenty of time to have you ride me, dear,” Rosetta assures her, leaning forward to claim her lips in a sensual, open-mouthed kiss that makes Djeeta’s delectable thighs tremble and threaten to give out. “ _Really_ , you should let Sir decide.”

“That’s right,” Belial purrs, delving between Sandy’s cheeks and too-gently easing the plug back and forth. “After all, you don’t want Sandy to miss out on my fingers stirring him up, right Djeeta?” He pauses to let the faint slick sounds soak into everyone’s ears. “That would be _cruel_!”

Sandy pants, his hips thrusting uncertainly in time with the plug’s grinding rhythm. “Yes, Sir…please, stir me up…!”

“But at the same time,” Belial pulls away, leaving Sandy quivering with need, “what if _I_ want to ride Rosetta today?” He reaches out and strokes the dildo thoughtfully, warming the cool glass with his warm hand. “Taking her down to the base, filled up so _completely_ …bouncing on her lap as she grabs my hips and brings me to heel… _mm._ I’m sure Djeeta can vouch for how great it’d feel. Right?”

It’s a good thing he turned his attention to her right then, because she freezes like a rabbit in a fox's den, caught in the act of her finger tentatively dipping inside the taut ring of her anus. Her face could put the Crimson Horizon to shame.

“Well, well, what have we here?” Belial grins wickedly and replaces her finger with his, swirling the tip around the opening light as a feather. “Looks like _someone_ forgot her other role in all this commotion!”

Djeeta shakes her head, but the eagerness with which her nether entrance clamps down on his finger proves _that_ a lie.

“I know, I know, you’re a good little milkmaid who just wants to please me with every lovely… _eager_ …inch of your body.” Her tight, hot walls try to pull him in deeper with every word. “ _But_ …you’re my tease-toy as well.” His free hand reaches down to thumb the plump, pulsing bud of her clitoris. “And what do tease-toys need more than anything? Tell me.”

“They”—she tries to rock against his thumb, but he pulls away at the last second—“they need to _come_ , Sir…!”

“Good girl.” Belial frees his finger from her sweet prison with a delectably lewd _pop_ , reveling in the way she mewls in yearning at the loss of friction. “But you’re not the only one who needs that, are you?”

Djeeta shakes her head, her thighs trembling even harder now.

“Since this is _such_ a tough choice, why don’t you three beg for it while I sample the options?” He moves down the line to each of his darlings in turn, rubbing the molten head of his sex against theirs as they plead for him with increasing desperation.

“Sir, Djeeta and I prepared ourselves for you since dawn—”

“—Sir, please, _use me_ —”

“—Sir, penetration sounds _wonderful_ ; I want to be trained—”

“—We _adore_ edging for you, but _please_ —”

Belial just chuckles and moves down the line, starting the whole process over again. As he does, his mind wanders down old, beaten paths: _I wonder how long this ‘vacation’ will last, in the end. A few weeks? Another month? A year? How long until you leave me like all the others did?_

A thousand years ago, he would order them to stay forever. He knows better now. Besides…it grows boring, seeing the same faces and going through the same motions without end. Eventually, they’ll _need_ to leave this place, those accursed blue skies calling out to their hearts. Maybe if he’s lucky, Sandy will stick around. But even _that_ ’s not a certainty.

If nothing else, it’ll be fun to see how far they go to reach Estalucia. When that time comes, he’ll make sure his scent lingers on their bodies for years, and every rise and fall of his voice, _every breath_ , remains imprinted in the backs of their heads for decades. They will be _honored_ to have spread their legs for the Primarch of Cunning.

He gazes at the trio before him: the sweat dampening their hair and trickling down their skin glittering like jewels in the morning sun, the way their vulnerable throats bob as they continually beg for more, the longing pulse of their sexes with each too-soft brush of contact, the naked desire in their eyes as they drink in the sight of him in turn. _Whenever that parting happens, I hope it’s a long, long time from now. There are countless ways to play we haven’t tried yet…a few boundaries to nudge, more ways to embarrass Djeeta, new pleasures for Sandy to learn. He hasn’t let his sadistic side out to play enough! Rosetta can help with that._

 _And once the play is over, I’ll kiss them and make it better. Lucifer always_ did _champion positive reinforcement._

Yes, he and his darlings will have plenty to occupy themselves with. Until that fateful parting…let debauchery hold sway.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! :D Feedback is appreciated.


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